The Unsung Fellowship
by Tybon
Summary: Frodo, Sam, Merry Pippin, Gimli, Legolas, Boromir, Aragorn, and Gandalf. Everyone knows of these great heroes. But what of Suladân, Erianne, Cina, or even Kheltor? This, is their story.
1. Old Beginnings

**Foreword**

**I take no credit for the names of people and places taken from the works of the great Tolkien and Jackson. I do feel obligated to apologize ahead of time to those who think that my fabricated names are not accurate to the background that the characters I've created would have. I just didn't think it would be necessary to be all that hardcore about getting the names right.**

**I did, after all, imagine up the storyline and characters in one night. I must also point out, ahead of time, that events from the actual Lord of the Rings that I plan on having my characters interact with will not have the correct amount of time passed between them. I did check this ahead of time, but I don't want to change the storyline I had planned out so that the appropriate amount of time would pass.**

**In any case, I do sincerely hope that someone will take at least a fraction of enjoyment out of this story that I experienced during writing it. Reviews and criticism are welcome. That's a big reason I went ahead and did this fanfic, to see how well I'd do and the reaction I'd get.**

* * *

The sun shone down on the forested land of Southern Ithilien with an intensity rivaled only by the sun over Near Harad. Animals kept to the shade, creeping about in the contrasting near darkness of the shadows next to the well-beaten paths that criss-crossed the unsettled land. Sweat beaded on the back of the only human for a league. Running down under his heavy Haradaic clothing. It was a familiar feeling for Suladân, the Nâfarat.

"These lands are a good bit different than the deserts of Near Harad, are they not, Dalamyr?" Suladân asked of his horse, whom he was leading by the reins while Suladân himself walked under the hot sun. Dalamyr tossed his massive head briefly, before continuing the onward plodding pace. Dalamyr had better things to worry about than the speech of his master. Like the constant nuisance of flies, biting into his massive flanks. Or the heat from the sun, beating down on his skin, as black as the night sky.

Dalamyr was Suladân's only friend and companion in these new lands, despite the fact that Dalamyr had been stolen by Suladân from the first people that had given Suladân a home. Despite the fact that Suladân had either murdered or betrayed the friends he once had in the desert. Escaping the memories and inevitable pursuit that came with his past was one of the few reasons he had left the comfortable familiarity of the deserts of his home in favor of these new lands.

Suladân winced as a large black fly bit into the stub of his left wrist. He shrugged his shoulder and watched the fly buzz away to bother some other unfortunate creature. It had been more difficult than expected to get across the Gondorian border. "Shouldn't be another day or two til it's back, do you think?" Suladân inquired of his friend, with just as much interest returned as before.

With a sigh of acceptance, Suladân plodded on. Out of the corner of his eye, Suladân spotted a hare popping up out of the brush on the left of the path. Quick as a blink, Suladân released Dalamyr's reins and reached across to his left forearm, snatching a bone knife out of his bracer, and flicked it with snakelike speed and precision at the flushed rabbit.

With a barely perceptible crunch and a tiny screech as it's life was ended, the hare fell. Suladân made his way over and picked up the hare, speared a hook on his wide belt through the hind ankles of the rabbit, returned the knife to his bracer, and took up Dalamyr's reins in his right hand yet again.

* * *

Later in the day, after more endless hours of plodding along the path, the sun was going down. Suladân began scanning about for a good place to stop for the night. Suddenly, a new sound reached his ears, and the ears of Dalamyr as well, for he let out a brief nicker. The sound of running water. There was a stream nearby...

An hour later, the sun was halfway beneath the horizon and Suladân was planted upon the ground next to a small cooking fire, biting into the fresh cooked meat of the hare he killed earlier that day. Dalamyr, his only friend and companion, nibbled at the grass growing next to the stream that ran next to their campsite, 15 yards away. The loneliness of the night pressed in on the pair. It was a familiar feeling for Suladân, the Nâfarat.


	2. New Beginnings

At the first sign of light, Suladân was up and had Dalamyr saddled. This was no easy task, as the mighty war horse was wider around than Suladân's arms could reach. Despite these minor difficulties the camp was broken and travel was soon underway. From the brief knowledge of Gondorian terrain that Suladân had, he knew that he would be at Osgiliath, the great river city of Gondor, on the day after tomorrow. This knowledge helped to increase his pace, even though he opted to continue leading Dalamyr on foot.

The sun was not so oppressive today, and Suladân decided to put his black head wrap and chest scarf with his armor, tied within a blanket on the back of Dalamyr's saddle. Despite the measures taken, a degree of sweat began to gather on the back of Suladân's well-tanned neck. He brushed his silver-streaked black hair back to keep the neck-length strands out of his face. After a moment's thought, he pulled his hair back at the center of the back of his head and tied it off with a length of sinew.

Soon, the day was almost half gone, and the horse and master had made good progress, keeping the Great Anduin River in sight on the West as they traveled, ensuring a Northward bearing.

* * *

Suddenly, a distant sound was carried to Dalamyr's ears. He tossed his massive head and nickered. Suladân moved quickly to quiet the steed, and listened carefully. Suladân could barely make out the sound on the wind, but he could only tell that it was not one of nature. Moving back along Dalamyr's side, Suladân slid his bone-tipped hunting spear from the sling on the side of Dalamyr's saddle.

Holding the spear with one hand, and gripping it with the bend of his other elbow, he moved along the path in a half-crouch, with Dalamyr waiting patiently where Suladân had left him.

After only advancing a dozen yards, Suladân could make out a voice amongst the other noises. He lightened his step as he continued to advance, and strained his ears to make out the speech.

"I'm too hungry to walk!" a juvenile voice complained. Suladân was temporarily halted by the apparent youth of the speaker, but reasoned that a child in these parts would definitely be traveling with adults. He continued with caution as a different voice piped up.

"But, we have to keep going. Mother said there would be a city nearby. We can get help there. They'd have to take us in." This second voice sounded just as child-like, and Suladân could tell it wasn't much further until he would be on top of the two voices.

It took only a moment for Suladân to decide to keep listening until making his presence known to the two children. Then the first voice cried, "But it's too far, we'll never make it! We're going to die out here because we're all alone!" Then, the first voice broke down into sobs, causing the second voice to begin attempting to quell the other child's sobs.

Suladân decided now was as good a time to reveal himself, even if he knew what his reception would be, if one of the children was in hysterics.

He stood up straight, held his spear vertically at his side, and concealed the stump of his left hand behind his back. Then, taking a deep breath and trying to relax his facial features as much as he could, he took four quick steps forward, and was soon faced with one of the most pitiful sights he had ever seen.

Two incredibly small children, neither could be much taller than 3 feet, were huddled in a small clearing on the side of the path. The larger of the two children, identified as a boy by his short, curly, brown hair was crying freely. While the other child, a girl if her long blond hair and light blue skirt were anything to attest to the contrary.

It took only a moment for the bawling young boy to open his eyes slightly, and see Suladân standing on the path. The sight only put the small boy further into hysterics. It took the girl a little longer to catch on, and she turned with suspicious eyes before doing one of the least likely things: begging the fearsome stranger for help.

"Oh, please, sir, can you help me and my brother? We're all alone out here. We've...lost our parents and we're all alone. We've been walking for days without any food or water. And we're so hungry, especially my brother. He always did like food too much. We're trying to get to the city nearby, but we don't know the way, and we're so hungry. Can you please help us? We're so lost. Oh, and my name is Cina and this is Telk." The girl babbled at Suladân, getting steadily faster and faster and somehow managing to get the last few sentences out in one breath.

Suladân was overwhelmed for a moment, but he blinked away his confusion and said, in a soft tone as he attempted to calm the children, "I'll be right back with some food and water..." Then he walked back to Dalamyr and retrieved the last of the meat from the rabbit, which he had preserved by smoke-cooking the previous night, and a water skin.

He walked back to the children and, keeping his movement slow and non-threatening, he crouched down to their level, and handed the provisions to the children, before settling back into a seated position while he looked off into the distance. The children examined the gifts carefully, before wolfing down the meat and taking turns drinking deeply and greedily from the water skin.

"Slow up a little, or you might choke." Suladân warned, still not looking directly at the children. The children seemed to heed his warning, as they slowed up a bit, but still had the meat down remarkably fast. Cina, the girl, had a gleaning of manners, as she left some water in the skin.

Suladân accepted the skin back, and chose now to look at the children. "Well, now that you've had a little food in your bellies, do you think it would be agreeable with you to share a little conversation?" He inquired.

Cina seemed to think about it for a moment, but Telk got to answering first. "Of course, sir! I don't see why not!" Suladân managed a small smile at the child's friendliness, which probably had something to with Suladân feeding him.

"Well, that's good to hear. I'm afraid that I've not run across many people willing to engage in civil conversation. My name is Suladân." Suladân conversed casually, settling back into a more relaxed position.

"Sueladdin?" Cina attempted.

"No, it's Sueladen." Telk corrected her, albeit incorrectly.

"I'm afraid that neither of you are correct. Well, this is a problem." Suladân stated, trying to think of some way to get around it.

"Can we call you Sue?" the children inquired simultaneously, with genuine looks of childish intrigue on their cherubic faces.

Suladân couldn't suppress a brief chuckle, tilting his head back in merriment. "Yes, that would be quite alright." He managed to get out amongst his laughter. He managed to calm down after a moment, letting out a sigh of contentment. "If I might ask, what are two small children doing out in the wilderness?"

"Well, we lost our parents, and we've been walking. Until it was just..." Cina began, unable to find an accurate way to voice her feelings.

"...too much." Telk finished with a frown.

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem anymore, if the city you were talking about is Osgiliath. I'm headed that way myself, and you two are welcome to join me." Suladân offered, looking between the two depressed faces of the children.

At first, it seemed to the children that the offer was too good to be true. _But, _Cina thought, w_e couldn't possibly end up worse than dead of starvation._ "Sure, Sue, we'll come with you." Telk showed his affirmative with a brief nod.

Suladân returned the gesture before getting to his feet. The children followed suit and walked with him to the path. They stopped suddenly, looking at Dalamyr with a mix of fear and awe. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite." Suladân assured the small children. Suladân walked up to the horse and patted him on the head, still keeping the stump of his other hand out of sight.

Telk and Cina cautiously approached the massive beast, whom gave them no notice as he continued to docilely look straight ahead.

"I think you two would be better off riding him. It's the safest place to be. He's quite tame." Suladân assured. Holding his good hand out to the children.

Telk, ever overconfident, took Suladân's hand and was lifted up to Dalamyr's saddle, plopping down and gripping the nearby saddle horn tightly. Next, Cina was lifted up. She took her place behind Telk quietly, but she was shaking a little. "We'll be going at a walk, so you don't have to worry." Suladân assured, before walking to the front of the massive horse and taking the reins in his good hand, before resuming his earlier pace, a small smile on his face.


	3. Road to Osgiliath

The small party of travelers walked for the rest of the day in complete silence. Suladân leading Dalamyr, Telk clinging to the saddle horn, and Cina clinging to Telk. After a few hours, the two children got used to the gentle swaying of Dalamyr's massive flanks. And the two even managed to get lulled into a light sleep.

Suladân's mind was focused solely on his own purpose of traveling to Osgiliath. He remembered quite clearly that it started with riding into Old Near Harad, a year ago...

* * *

_A younger Suladân rode atop Dalamyr into the dilapidated city of Old Near Harad. While the city had long faded from its capital city glory, it was still a hub of trade and travel. Suladân was wandering in the area, and it seemed logical that he would escape notice in such a large and well populated city._

_It quickly grew impossible not to notice an increased presence of Goblin-Men on the city streets. It was rare to ever see any inhabitants from the North this far in the South. Suladân eyed them warily, but otherwise gave them little notice._

_Moving down the main street to the well, he removed his head wrap for a brief few moments to take a drink from the pool, and to give Dalamyr a drink. Before he returned the head scarf, Suladân was unwittingly identified by a local across the street, and the commoner scurried off the street quickly, knowing only too well the reputation of the Nâfarat._

_Suladân supposed that was when his visit started to go downhill._

* * *

Snapping out of his reverie, Suladân realized the sun was beginning to go down, and he needed to start looking for another campsite.

He settled for a large meadow, a little ways off from the path. The three set up camp, Suladân putting Dalamyr on a long lead to allow him to roam and graze. The three ate from Suladân's supplies and drank the remainder of water in his first water skin.

The two children settled quickly to sleep, wrapped in the same blanket. No fire was lit. Suladân stayed awake, knowing tonight would be the night that it would happen. While he waited for it to start, he thought back on his earlier reverie.

* * *

_The commoner ran to a group of the Goblin-Men nearby and told them of Suladân's presence. They seemed eager for the news, noting that their 'Master' would be pleased._

_Those Goblin Men bolstered their numbers to half a dozen before coming after Suladân._

_They caught him as he was heading deeper into the city, on a narrow street lined closely on both sides by buildings with low rooftops. Suladân walked Dalamyr along the street, put on his guard by obscure shadows darting down the alleyways in between the buildings._

_Suddenly, two of them rushed out of the alleys ahead, and two more behind, to block his escape. Instantly, a thrown knife put down one of the forward attackers, as Suladân dashed backwards to retrieve his spear from its sling._

_They were on him before he could reach it. However, he was ready with the short blade, drawn from the back of his belt, slashing at the exposed stomach of the nearest attacker. The shaped Mumakil tusk split the exposed flesh wide open, and the assailant fell, bleeding heavily._

_The remaining two sought to subdue him, one grabbing his arms from behind and the other knocking the blade from his hand with a numbing blow of a club to Suladân's wrist._

_Dalamyr reared in panic, and used his fore hooves to stove in the chest of the Goblin-Man that had injured Suladân. In the same instant, Suladân broke the grip of the assailant behind him and, turning to face him, was smashed on the head by one of the other two Goblin-Men that had shown up to help their comrades._

_Suladân only had enough time to hear Dalamyr's screams of rage and fear, before he blacked out completely..._

_

* * *

_

Suladân was snapped out of his dream-state by sharp stinging in the stub of his left wrist. Suladân drew breath sharply, and clasped his forearm, near the elbow. Then, he waited, gritting his teeth against the steadily rising agitation.

The scarred tissue of the stub turned an angry red, and began to shift. The pain reached it's peak as the skin began to stretch, and the bones in his arm felt like they were splitting apart and stabbing into his skin. He closed his eyes and sought for the strength to bear through it.

In half a minute, a period of time that seemed like hours, the process was over. He looked down to see his fully reformed left hand. Deathly pale, but there, and functional. He knew from experience that the color would return in a few hours, as it always did. He decided to sleep it off. Before he drifted completely off to sleep, Suladân thought to himself, _Occasionally their are uses to the gifts and curses of the Nâfarat..._ Soon, his mind wandered, yet again, back to his trip to Old Near Harad.

* * *

_He awoke with the feeling that his head had been split apart. He opened his eyes slowly, and stirred, finding his movement restricted. He opened his eyes completely and started to struggle against the bonds. An ugly voice spat at him in a language he didn't recognize and the owner of the voice clouted him heavily on the side of his head._

_Then, a voice pierced the air, with a dry and dusty feeling, like a snake slithering over fallen leaves. "Now, is that any way to treat a potential associate." Suladân heard grumbling from behind him before falling into silence."That's better. Now we can discuss what we've gone to all this trouble to get a chance to talk with one of the Nâfarat. Yes, we know what you are. And that's precisely why we've been looking for you. My Master has some work in mind for one of the 'Lizard Beings.'" The voice continued._

_Suladân was still too dazed to see well, but he could listen as the voice described a city in the North by the name of Osgiliath, and how it would be very beneficial for the mysterious voice's Master if Suladân would travel to this city, and ensure that the front gate would be unlocked on the night of July the First._

_Then, the owner of the voice dropped a bag that had the unmistakable jingle of coins on the table and, before leaving, said, "You will be released and given the payment. You are under no obligation to carry out the task, but it would be very profitable if you would." Then, the voice was gone, Suladân's bonds were cut, and the second presence left. Suladân got up, took the sack of coins, and left the room, finding Dalamyr and all of his equipment outside, but no sign of either of the presences that had been with him inside the building._

_Suladân mounted Dalamyr and rode out of town immediately, heading in a Northerly direction._


	4. Arrival at Osgiliath

By the time Telk and Cina were awake the next day, Suladân already had broken camp and saddled Dalamyr, and all that was left before they could set off again was for Suladân to return the blanket to its proper place and for Telk and Cina to get back astride the massive war horse.

In a matter of minutes, these tasks were accomplished, and the journey was underway. Within the hour, however, Telk and Cina's stomachs began to complain loudly. The two children tried to ignore it for a while, but it was eventually too much and Telk piped up, "Um...Sue, my sister and I are really hungry..."

Suladân couldn't help but smile at the child's nervousness. "Take some bread from the pouch there, on the saddle." he ordered, keeping in stride as he forged ahead along the path.

Suladân's steps were increased in speed for two reasons. One: He was glad to have all of his limbs back. And two: The city of Osgiliath should be within sight soon, which meant he would be able to complete his mission that night, right on time.

"The date is July the First, if either of you were wondering." Suladân called back conversationally to the two children, who were too busy munching away on their breakfast to answer.

* * *

After most of the day was spent walking, the three travelers mounted the top of a ridge, and the city of Osgiliath came into sight. Suladân paused, eyes roving over the outer wall of the city, searching for the gate that was his objective.

Suladân could tell, even from this distance, that the city was falling into disrepair and had been, at least in part, evacuated. Taking a slow breath, Suladân started forward once again, as the two children stared on in awe.

The remaining distance to the great ruinous city went by uneventfully and quickly. Soon, they had left the forest paths behind, and were walking along well-traveled roads.

* * *

The wall guards of Osgiliath watched them approach with suspicion in their eyes. Scouts in the area had told them of an increasing presence of Orcs. Most of the civilians had been evacuated from the area, especially from the Eastern half of the city.

Suladân approached the gates carefully, keeping his hands in sight. He chose to leave his face exposed, to engender more trust. "Hail, gate guards!" he called up with what he hoped was a friendly tone.

"Hail, down there, travelers. What brings you to Osgiliath?" One of the guards, probably some form of captain, called back down.

"I was hoping to take my young charges here to Minas Tirith by the safest road." Suladân answered, phrasing his response in such a way that it would be half-true, and so the children couldn't detect any lie. The children began to mutter excitedly, they'd heard of the majesty of Minas Tirith.

"Well, you better get on in then. These lands aren't as safe as they used to be." The Gate Captain said, before crying out to the gatehouse, "Open the gates! Travelers coming through!"

Suladân let out a sigh of relief as the gate inched open, wide enough to admit a wagon. Suladân entered the city, fixing a smile on his face and letting the first soldiers he saw know of his gratitude.

The Gate Captain came down to talk with Suladân. "Have you seen anything of a cavalry patrol in your travels?"

"No, not at all. We've been traveling by smaller forest paths, too small for multiple horses. Are they late in returning?" Suladân offered, frowning in mock concern, attempting to keep the soldiers from getting suspicious.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, they are. We sent them out to-" the Captain began, but was soon cut off by Telk's exclamation.

"Sue, I'm tired!" the child cried, sticking his lower lip out and pouting.

The pure childishness of the act brought the Gate Captain to laughter, quickly joined by Suladân. "I'm sorry for my charge's behavior, but it has been a long day of traveling. Might you have some place we could stay for the night?" inquired Suladân, as soon as his laughter and the Gate Captain's had quieted down.

"Yes, of course, we have a well-maintained inn just down the street." The Gate Captain offered, pointing out the building. It was relatively small, but it was in a convenient location, and appeared to be legitimate. Suladân thanked the Gate Captain with a nod before leading Dalamyr towards the inn, just as a chorus of thundering hooves preceded the arrival of the expected patrol.

* * *

At the patrol's head was a large, well-built man. His medium-length brown hair flowed freely, unrestrained by the peaked helm the soldier carried under his left arm. He was dressed in the plate armor of the Gondorian foot soldier, with the addition of minor degrees of ornamentation that identified him as a soldier of higher rank.

The patrol slowed to a trot as they entered the gate that had recently been thrown wide open. They were greeted warmly by their comrades on their safe return. "Braelorn! Good to see you back!" The Gate Captain called to the leader of the patrol. Braelorn greeted him with a broad smile as the patrol passed through the threshold, and headed for the stables nearby.

Once Braelorn had his rich brown stallion, named Geld, settled with his stall and enough hay and water for the night, Braelorn strode back out to the gate to give his report to the Gate Captain. "It's just like the earlier outings went. We rode East until we were in sight of Mordor, then started to head back. But then, we were ambushed by a group of orcs. We ran, but we lost Weiland, he was pulled from his horse, never stood a chance." Braelorn bowed his head in sorrow for his lost comrade.

"This is bad news. If the orcs are pressing Westward into this area, it's likely they'll attack the city soon. Seal the gates!" The Gate Captain reasoned and gave the order to close the gates and put the locks in place within the gate house. Braelorn gave a nod of assent, before moving off to the barracks as night began to descend on the city. Neither soldier would've known that orcs were massing in the trees, just out of sight of the gate guards, waiting for the gate to open as they knew it would be soon, by an agent of Sauron.


	5. Night Raid of Osgiliath

Suladân settled the children for bed in the room he had rented for the night at the small inn that had been recommended to them by the Gate Captain. There were no other travelers staying at the inn, so the innkeeper didn't ask any questions once he received Suladân's payment and proceeded to show them their room.

* * *

Hours later, Suladân sat by the only window, watching the sky outside turn steadily darker, thinking over what he would soon have to do. He had puzzled over what purpose his employer could have for wanting the gates of Osgiliath open on that night in particular. So far, the only conclusions he had come to were that his employer wanted to get something into the city, without the soldiers knowing. But it escaped Suladân what.

When he thought the time was right, Suladân left the inn, careful not to make a sound. He only brought with him the short blade and one bracer, carrying 6 bone throwing knives. He'd removed his desert shoes, and only wore his black leggings, tied off at the knees and the ankles, and the crimson undershirt.

He set out in the direction of the gatehouse, keeping to the shadows, and eyes constantly scanning for the presence of patrolling soldiers. Watch fires were lit all along the wall, making a bed of shadows just beneath the walls, but two fires were also built up on either side of the courtyard, bathing the courtyard in light.

Suladân could see guards patrolling along the walls, but all of their eyes were directed outwards. No problem there. There were also four groups of two guards each, milling about the courtyard, with no discernible pattern. They were the biggest problem to Suladân remaining undetected. An idea struck Suladân, and he made his way silently to the stables used for the soldiers' horses.

* * *

Minutes later, all of the stable's gates were thrown wide, and shortly afterward, all of the horses thundered out and ran down the street. The soldiers in the courtyard went sprinting after them, leaving the courtyard empty of soldiers. Child's play.

Suladân made his quick and silent way up to the gatehouse. Inside, the guard in charge was snoozing silently. Big mistake. Suladân crept in through the open doorway and approached the soldier. Luckily, the soldier's helm was removed, so when Suladân cracked him on the left temple with the pommel of his short blade, the soldier fell over silently, unconscious.

Next, Suladân faced the gate gears, examining how best to throw the gates wide, and make it impossible to close again. A large lever appeared to be the key to opening or closing the gates.

Thinking quickly, for he knew that the soldiers chasing the horses would return at any moment and leave Suladân trapped in the gatehouse, he pushed the lever into the open position and broke it at the base, preventing it from being pulled back. Suladân could hear the gears working frantically as the gate began to open while he made his way back out and across the courtyard.

* * *

Outside the city walls, in the forest, a wild roar went up amongst the Orcs as the gate was thrown wide. An ominous horn was blown, and hundreds of dark bodies broke from the treeline and charged for the gates.

The soldiers tried frantically to close the gates, but discovered the gatehouse guard knocked out, and the gate controls disabled. The Orcs were almost to the gates, despite the efforts of the archers on the wall, as soldiers were massing to the gates, attempting to establish battle lines before the Orcs got to them.

* * *

As soon as Suladân heard the horn, he moved quickly, gathering up all of his possessions and waking the children, telling them to follow him as quickly as they could. He ran to the inn stables and saddled Dalamyr, boosting the children up and mounting up behind them, he grabbed Dalamyr's reins and kicked him to action.

Dalamyr's massive black body broke through the flimsy gate of the inn stables and onto the street, just as the Orcs smashed into the flimsy Gondorian line, just within the city gates. Suladân could tell they weren't going to hold for very long, so he turned Dalamyr left, down the street and away from the ensuing battle. Soldiers rushed down the street, attempting to join their fellows and hold back the Orcs.

They didn't succeed. The Orcs used their superior numbers and the element of surprise to shatter the weak defensive line, engulfing all of the soldiers, who were killed in an instant. The Orcs rushed down the main street, sweeping aside any opposition from the soldiers, while Suladân and the children rode away in the opposite direction. Dalamyr couldn't go his full speed, with all of the soldiers rushing past.

All the while, Suladân was raging at himself, wondering, _What have I done? What have I DONE? _Suddenly, a different horn thundered through the air as a cavalry unit, which had been regrouping further down the street and preparing to charge, thundered down the street right at the Orc horde. At the front of the charge, blowing the horn, was Boromir, the great Captain of Gondor, and the son of The Steward. Riding next to him was Braelorn, carrying a flowing banner of Gondor in one hand whilst roaring a mighty battle cry.

* * *

Suladân turned Dalamyr down a side street, just as the charge thundered past. While he could not see the result of the charge, he heard a great many Orcish cries of fear and pain mix with the call of the mighty war horn.

Suladân rode Dalamyr along the side street until he could turn him down another, heading West. The sounds of battle went on in the background, but this area was free of Orcs and soldiers. Suladân knew nothing of the layout of Osgiliath, but he knew that the best chance of getting over the river would be to get back on the main street, where the battle was still raging.

* * *

They rode another few buildings down, before turning onto a narrow alley that would lead them back to the main street. Once the massive horse was halfway through the alley, a panicking horse, whose rider was clearly not in control, burst in through the other end.

The horse charged down the alleyway, but stopped at the sight of Dalamyr and attempted to turn around, but the narrowness of the alley prevented it. Handing Dalamyr's reins to the children, Suladân dismounted and approached the restive horse carefully, holding his hands out as he tried to calm it down.

The rich brown horse eyed him warily and tried to shuffle away, but Suladân snatched the reins and stroked the horse's head, calming it down. He looked up to the rider, seeing two black arrows protruding from the knight's armored chest. He was surprised to see that the soldier had still managed to keep hold of his large shield and longsword.

Doubting that the soldier would still be alive, he checked the pulse on his wrist, and was surprised to learn he was still alive. Making a split-second decision, Suladân helped the startled horse turn around in the narrow alley, then called Dalamyr up. Still keeping hold of the brown horse's reins, he jumped onto Dalamyr, and rode him forward, ahead of the brown horse and into the street.

* * *

He turned the horses left and looked over his right shoulder to see a mass of fighting bodies, but he could tell the soldiers defending the city were losing. He hurried the horses along in the opposite direction, keeping them at a fast trot so he could keep hold of both of the horses' reins.

Up ahead appeared a bridge, with a gated wall protecting it. The gate was currently closed. But as the two horses continued their bearing, it started to open in order to admit them. Suladân didn't stop once he was through, giving the soldiers a nod, before continuing along the bridge. A startled cry went up among the soldiers as they discovered the identity of the soldier he was leading. "Braelorn! Braelorn!" they cried, and Suladân slowed down in response, looking between the soldiers and the injured soldier, now identified as Braelorn.

The soldiers told Suladân to bring Braelorn to the camp on the opposite side of the river. He agreed before starting the horses moving again, Braelorn bobbing in the saddle behind him.

It was not too long before the sounds of battle kicked up at the heavily defended bridge gate behind them. Suladân dismounted Dalamyr and started to run, leading both horses behind him. He quickly reached the other side of the bridge, where the matching gate was opened and he was admitted amongst the soldiers holding there. He relayed that he was to take the injured Braelorn to the camp, and they let him through.

* * *

At last, Suladân reached the camp he had been looking for, and surrendered Braelorn to the soldiers there. They offered him a place to sleep for whatever amount of night was left, and he agreed, led Dalamyr to the provided stable, and settled the two frightened children to bed, wrapped in a blanket and next to a camp fire. Suladân stayed up and listened to how the battle was progressing.

The Orcs were able to smash through the East bridge gate, but the bridge narrowed their front line presence enough to allow the Gondorian soldiers to hold the West gate until dawn, when the Orcs retreated to the East bank. The East half of Osgiliath was lost in a matter of minutes. And it was all Suladân's fault.


	6. Road to Minas Tirith And Redemption

Saludân didn't get any sleep that night. He was forced to watch as they carted the wounded and dead from defending the West gate past him and through the camp. Saludân had seen death and suffering before, even caused a great deal of it. But never before had he made a choice that caused so much of it, and when it was unnecessary.

Aside from grief and remorse, he also felt a great deal of anger at the mysterious voice and his Master. They who had not told him what would happen when he carried out the order. Saludân did not enjoy being manipulated, he had always been used to a great deal of freedom in his life. He made himself a promise to not only make up for this fault as best he could, but also to make the owner of the voice pay, if he would ever find him.

After sitting in one place for the rest of the night, Saludân decided to get up and move about the camp. Maybe to look for some small chance at redemption, but mostly because movement made him feel independent from his thoughts, his guilt.

* * *

After a few minutes of wandering about the camp, Saludân happened upon the tent where they were taking care of Braelorn. Saludân slipped inside, watching as local healers from Osgiliath tended to the mighty warrior. They had removed his armor, exposing his muscular and scarred chest. The places where the two arrows had struck him were heavily bandaged. He was sleeping peacefully.

It saddened Saludân to see that Braelorn's wounds were his fault. But he was glad to have been able to save his life.

From outside the tent, Saludân heard the sound of approaching soldiers, and slid to the side as a soldier whom Saludân quickly identified as Boromir entered the tent and approached Braelorn. One of the healers sensed his intent and tried to stop the Captain.

"My Lord, Braelorn is not well, if we rouse him, he may not-" the healer began, but Boromir pushed him out of the way. The rest of the healers stood between Boromir and the injured warrior, urging him to let Braelorn rest. But suddenly, a weak voice from behind the healers said,

"That won't be necessary. I feel up to a conversation with my oldest friend." The healers, and Boromir, turned to see Braelorn propped up by his elbows, looking at Boromir with the ghost of a grin.

Boromir rushed forward to kneel by Braelorn's bedside. The healers let him through."My friend, those arrows were meant for me..." Boromir said, smiling at his friend and apparent savior.

Braelorn returned the smile and said, "I knew you wouldn't have been able to take them, with your weak constitution." The two friends started laughing, until Braelorn's was halted by a sharp pain in his chest. He fell back on the bed with an expression of pain on his face. Boromir looked on with an expression of worry, but the look soon left Braelorn's face.

He looked up to see Saludân for the first time, on the other side of the tent. "And who's this? Another visitor?" he inquired, as all the other occupants turned to look at the intruder. Saludân stepped forward nervously, not sure what to say, until a healer saved him the trouble of it.

"I believe this is the man that saved your life yesterday." he said, squinting at Saludân's attire and face. "Yes, I believe so." he confirmed.

Boromir rushed over to Saludân and gripped his hand in warm welcome. "I believe my friend and I owe you a debt of deep gratitude." he said, pulling Saludân forward to Braelorn's bedside.

"No thanks are necessary." Saludân mumbled, prising his hand from Boromir's strong grip.

"But surely, without your assistance, I would not still be here." Braelorn scoffed, awed at the stranger's modesty.

_And without me, you wouldn't be in your condition._ Saludân thought, because he knew it would be as suicide to admit to opening the gates last night. "No thanks are necessary, I simply did what any other would have done if they had a chance to help one of the great warriors of Gondor."

Boromir and Braelorn seemed to take to Saludân's praise, indicated by their broad smiles. "Ah, but I've forgotten. Someone needs to travel back to Minas Tirith to give my Father the news. I would myself, but I find myself called to travel North." Boromir sighed, shaking his head at the misfortune.

"I would gladly go to let your Father know of the, ungh, unfortunate news, but I can hardly travel alone in my current state." Braelorn admitted, attempting to sit up but failing.

"I'm heading to Minas Tirith, I could relay the message for you." Saludân offered with a shrug.

Braelorn sat up quickly and said with a confident smile on his face, "We'll do one better, I'll come with you."

* * *

An hour later, Saludân had retrieved his two charges, his equipment, and Dalamyr, and Braelorn had also retrieved the equipment he needed, and his horse, Geld. They met at the West gates that opened out onto the Pelennor Fields. Boromir was also with them, as he was about to set off on the journey to Rivendell.

Suladân was busy packing the pouches on Dalamyr's saddle with the food that he had been given from the vast stores of the Gondorian soldiers while Braelorn and Boromir were exchanging their goodbyes. "Be careful, friend. Next time I might not be their to catch the arrows for you." Braelorn warned with a smile.

Boromir laughed before responding, "I'll keep my shield up, old friend." The men shared a handshake that quickly changed to a brotherly hug. They broke apart and mounted their horses. With a nod, Boromir set off as Braelorn rode to Suladân and the children.

"Well, I'm ready to go." Braelorn said. Suladân looked up from his work and nodded, tying off the pouch and climbing aboard Dalamyr, behind the two children.

Then, the companions that had now grown to four in number turned towards the white city, just in sight, and began the ride over at a comfortable trot.


	7. Braelorn's Story

The day was spent traveling at a walking pace, so that Braelorn's injuries would not be strained. Braelorn insisted that the slower pace was not necessary, that he would be fine, but Suladân knew better. He shouldn't be up at all, one day after getting hit with two arrows, let alone riding a horse.

The companions didn't make it within the walls of Minas Tirith that day, and chose a camp site next to a ridge, to provide some protection from the wind. Braelorn insisted that they light a fire, "Not only are these lands protected by patrols, but the hot food will help my recovery!" Telk joined his insistence, and ran off to gather firewood.

Suladân couldn't say no to both of the lighthearted beings' pleas, so a fire was soon built up, and they ate from Suladân's food stores. Soon, the homely atmosphere of the camp site got to Telk, and he demanded that Braelorn tell them a story. Braelorn laughed merrily at the request, the pure volume stirring Dalamyr and Geld from their grazing position, out of the light of the campfire.

Once Braelorn had ceased his laughter, he assented to the child's demands, and began with, "I do know one good story. It's about a Great Captain of Gondor, and his closest friend..."

* * *

_Once, many years ago, there lived two young lads in the majestic white city. They were inseparable, always getting into trouble, and getting punished, together. There was one problem, however, the Father of one of the lads was the Steward of Gondor. He was in charge of ruling in the king's place, until another king could be found._

_It did not look good for the Steward to see his son running around and getting into so much trouble, so he gave them both something else to do. They were to be trained to be the mightiest warriors of Gondor. The two lads enjoyed the time together, and the work. They soon learned to ride, fight, and defend. It was their dream to become great captains of Gondor, and to valiantly save many innocent lives from evil._

_Then, the day came when they were old enough to join the army. One of them was the son of the Steward, so he was given special treatment, and rose quickly through the ranks. The other was forced to work hard, and climb slowly. He did not hate his privileged friend, because he was still just that: his friend._

_Many years later, the son of the Steward was the greatest Captain of Gondor, and his friend was a Mighty Knight. The two fought raiders and protected innocents, just like they dreamed they would. But one day, they were called to defend a great river city from another type of invader. The Orcs. Nasty, evil beings. However, something went wrong, and the friends failed. Orcs got into the city, and many men were lost. The great Captain of Gondor was almost killed in the battle, but his friend saved him._

_Both friends were saddened by the loss of life. Even though they ended up holding the city, they considered losing that many men a failure. And now, the Captain of Gondor has to go North, to meet the Elves. And his friend was left behind._

* * *

Braelorn finished his tale on a sad note, and slipped into an antisocial state, bowing his head and not talking to anyone. The other three travelers watched him for a few moments, before Telk got his attention with a tap on his shoulder and asked, "Were you the Captain of Gondor, the Steward's son?"

Braelorn looked up at the child, and said with a smile, "No, I was his friend. His best friend." _And he left me behind..._ The smile left Braelorn and he went quickly to bed. The homely atmosphere left that camp site and was replaced by one of brooding. The other three companions slipped gradually into sleep, all thinking about the son of the Steward, and his friend.


	8. Arrival at Minas Tirith

The companions were all up early to assist with breaking camp. Braelorn appeared to be back in high spirits as he whistled quietly while he saddled Geld. Before the journey resumed, Telk insisted on riding with Braelorn. So, as they set out for the great White City, Braelorn led with Telk and Suladân followed with Cina.

The two astride Dalamyr were silent as they rode, but Telk kept up a constant stream of questions at Braelorn, which the Knight was only too happy to answer, laughing all the time.

The ride continued in this manner, until all grew quiet when Minas Tirith came into sight. The two horses stood side-by-side, their riders staring in awe at the majesty and size of the city. Braelorn broke the silence by declaring, "I doubt any of you have ever seen a sight so magnificent before, hmm?"

His companions answered with timid nods, eyes still roving over the features of the shining city. Braelorn laughed before starting Geld forward and saying, "I thought not. Come, before they think we're spies." Dalamyr was soon following. And, out of his joy at coming home, Braelorn urged Geld into a run, and soon, Suladân and Braelorn were racing to see who would reach the gates first.

* * *

Suladân won, because Braelorn was forced to slow up by sharp pains in his chest. He caught up to Suladân and Cina, taking deep, gasping breaths. His companions looked upon him with worry, but Braelorn brushed their worry aside and continued through the wide-open gates.

A cheer went up amongst the crowd, but it was soon silenced once they realized that Boromir was not with them, and one of the Southrons was among their number. The people dispersed, and soldiers, armed for war, approached the two horses. They were led by a soldier with no helm and an immaculate cape. An envoy for the Steward, who had most likely not seen many battles and gained his rank through nobility.

"It is the Steward's wish to know what news you bear from Osgiliath." The envoy stated, looking bored.

"The gate was opened by and unknown presence, and Orcs took the Eastern half of the city." Braelorn reported, trying to keep his evident disgust at the pampered noble out of his voice.

"Pity, I'm sure that others would not have lost the battle that easily. I shall relay this message to the Steward. Where is Boromir? The Steward will wish to speak with him, if he is still alive, and you were not incompetent enough to let him die." The envoy said casually, his voice dripping with contempt.

"I think it would be better if one who was there and would not speak with embellishment would be better suited to relay the message. Those are Boromir's wishes." Without waiting for a response, Braelorn started Geld walking forward, past the envoy and his bodyguards, who was left standing aghast, and made a futile attempt to regain control of the situation.

"But none but the envoy, sons of the Steward, or those he seeks out personally may disturb the Steward!" the envoy cried, attempting to catch hold of Braelorn's boot.

With a look of disgust on his face, Braelorn turned and prised his boot from the envoy's grasp, then planted a kick squarely in the envoy's nose, knocking him to the ground and bloodying his nose. "Just try and stop me."

Suladân followed Braelorn, keeping his eyes ahead and trying very hard to keep from laughing. Cina watched the confrontation, a look of horror on her face, and Telk looked up at Braelorn with pure admiration.

"He was a noble who had never fought a battle. The kind of person that would blind the people to the threat growing in the East. They'll see to the ruin of this city, without even knowing it." Braelorn explained to his companions, with no response.

As they continued up the many tiered levels of the city, people watched Suladân with suspicion and mistrust. Soldiers stopped what they were doing, and warily put their hands to their weapons, watching his movements closely. Braelorn soon explained the problem, "There have not been many Southrons in Gondor. And those few have been treated with mistrust as well. Dealings between Gondor and Near Harad have never been friendly."

"I was merely born and raised there, I do not share their animosity toward everyone different to them." Suladân stated, a slight edge of animosity to his voice.

"Nor do I. A friend is a friend, and a savior is a savior. Still, it would be best if you waited at my house, where it's safe, while I visit with the Steward." Braelorn suggested, concern in his eyes as he looked back at Suladân, whom offered a nod of assent in return.

* * *

Later in the day, Suladân, Telk, and Cina were waiting in Braelorn's home for their friend's return. Telk explored the house, examining everything and wondering about the life of the man whom he admired. Cina sat quietly in a chair, and Suladân watched the street through a window, wondering at the possibility of being attacked.

Within the hour, there was a knock on the door and Braelorn entered, settling into a chair with a heavy sigh. "How went it?" inquired Suladân, still watching the street.

"I relayed the report, and informed the Steward of his son's journey. He was not happy." Braelorn stated. "Also, I passed the envoy on my way back, it looked like he was heading up to tell the Steward of my actions. He didn't seem happy to see me for some reason." he added with a weak smile.

"I think we should stay here for a few days, give you a chance to recover and stay out of more trouble. I'll do the same." Suladân reasoned, coming back from the window to settle into another chair.

"Agreed." said Braelorn. He sighed heavily. Hiding and resting didn't agree with him, but he knew it was necessary.

* * *

Over the next few days, Suladân noticed that Cina seemed nervous about something, but didn't seem willing to share it. Until later in the third day, when she approached Suladân.

"Are we about to find out what you've been so secretive about?" Suladân remarked, bored at being cooped up for so long, and likely for longer. Cina gave a brief nod of assent. After a few minutes of silence, Suladân remarked impatiently, "Well, out with it, then."

After taking a deep breath, Cina launched into her explanation, "Well, Sue, you know that we lost our parents? We accidentally got separated and they left us, probably thinking we were dead. But, I know where they were probably heading, North, into Rohan, I think. They mentioned something about an...um...East Emnet."

"Well, I've never heard of Rohan, or an East Emnet." Saludân remarked, causing Cina to drop her gaze to the floor in despair. "But, I could ask Braelorn, or maybe check some form of a map." he added, disheartened by the child's despair.

* * *

And so, later that day saw Saludân going to Braelorn with Cina's plea and the wish to see a map. The two companions were soon bent over a map of Gondor and Rohan that Braelorn had somewhere in his house. They could see that it would be a long journey, but it would be possible. The route would be simple, follow the Anduin River North until they reached the Entwash, which they could then follow the rest of the way , into Rohan.

"Thank you, Braelorn. I doubt I would have been able to learn the way by myself. We can leave tomorrow." Saludân reasoned, closing the map and returning it to Braelorn. "Thank you for your help."

"You say that as if I wasn't going with you." Brealorn stated with a broad smile. Saludân opened his mouth as if to put him off the idea, but Braelorn cut him off. "I doubt you could guide these children through strange lands on your own, you'll need my help, and my map. Besides, I think I'd better get out of here before that envoy comes a-knocking seeking some retribution for our less-than-friendly parting."

Saludân smiled briefly and offered his assent, before the two companion retired to bed, already thinking of the preparations they would need to make for the journey ahead.


	9. Departing Minas Tirith

The next day was spent going casually about the city, buying food and provisions. Braelorn acquired heavy cloaks for each of his companions. The extra warmth provided by the cloaks was just an extra precaution. He also bought a pair of small knives, for either of the children. While they were intended for the everyday uses of a knife in the wilderness, he couldn't deny that the need might arise for the children to be able to defend themselves.

* * *

It was in the manner of highly stocked saddlebags and high spirits that the companions set out from Minas Tirith. They left quietly, early in the morning so not that many people would see them go. Keeping with their earlier riding arrangements, Cina was with Suladân and Telk was with Braelorn. As they passed through the open gate, Braelorn paused, taking a long look back at the city he would be leaving behind.

But then, the envoy appeared, with an angry expression and Braelorn was forced to urge Geld into a run to catch up with Suladân, who was leading at a slow gallop. As soon as Braelorn caught up, the two riders turned their horses to the Northeast, toward the Anduin River.

Cina was being unusually quiet during the ride. This did not escape Suladân's notice, and he soon confronted her about it. "Aren't you happy to be on the way to meeting your parents?" he inquired.

Cina looked up at him for a moment, seeming to be considering her answer before giving it, "Yes, I am, but...well, I'm not sure if they'll still be there. If they even went that way."

Suladân took pity on the girl and answered with encouragement, "I'm sure your parents wouldn't leave you and your brother on purpose. They'll have thought over carefully where you would expect them to be, and then they'd be there." The attempted encouragement only brought tears to the little girl's eyes, and she lapsed back into silence, staring at the saddle horn that she gripped with her tiny hands.

Suladân also opted for silence, instead focusing on the landscape around them. These plants seemed strange to him after the barren wastes of the Haradaic desert. Dalamyr seemed to have acclimated well, however. He was enjoying the lush grass and plentiful water for a change, and his pace was much smoother, with solid ground underfoot.

* * *

And so they continued in this manner for a week. Once they reached the foothills of the White Mountains, they put on the heavy cloaks Braelorn had bought. But soon, they had crossed over into Southern Rohan, and the cloaks became unnecessary.

They encountered no signs of other humans during their travel. The roads were deserted and there were no settlements. One night at the camp fire, Braelorn explained that this was caused by an estrangement between the two countries thanks to the Steward's paranoid and proud nature. At the end of the week, they had reached the system of smaller tributaries where the Entwash met the Anduin.

They camped early, and spent a day of extra rest bathing in the river, hunting for their food instead of eating from their stores, and overall just resting tired horses and riders.

Up to this point, their travel had been mired somewhat by the presence of forests and roads rutted by the wheels of wagons. But now that the terrain had changed from the forested foothills of the White Mountains into the plains of Rohan they would be able to increase their pace, and cover more ground.

* * *

Setting off Northwest along the Entwash River, neither rider led because of their shared unfamiliarity with the land. Although Braelorn did check the map of Gondor and Rohan he had brought with him every night in order to see how much distance they had left, and to ensure that they were headed in the right direction.

A bond quickly began to form between Telk and Braelorn. Telk was drawn to Braelorn's strength and experience in battle. He often begged Braelorn to regale him with tales of his exploits. Soon, Telk was set on becoming a mighty Knight like his idol.

It was a constant point of fascination for Saludân as to why Telk and Cina were so small. Eventually, he asked Cina of their nature. He had heard of the short stature of the Dwarves and assumed they were Dwarven children. Cina was quick to correct him.

"We're Hobbits." she explained. When she only got a blank look from Saludân, she elaborated. "My parents said that's what we are. They talk often of some place called the Shire, far away. That's where we came from. None of us grow very tall at all. And we're even shorter because we're Hobbit children. I'm only 15, and Telk is 14."

Suladân passed on this new information to Braelorn, but he wasn't surprised to hear it. Apparently, he had heard of Hobbits before in a tale he had heard in his youth about a particular one, named Bilbo Baggins. Braelorn shared the tale over the camp fire one night, and the Hobbit children confirmed that they were familiar with it, even correcting a few mistakes with Braelorn's version.

The four soon grew into close friends and companions, as is inevitable for people traveling together over such great distances. But, after another week, Braelorn said that they were nearing East Emnet, and soon they would find Telk and Cina's parents. Cina grew unusually quiet after this, and Telk was happy, but also sad that he would soon be parted from his new friends.


	10. Revelations Rohirrim and The White Rider

On the 15th morning of their travels, Braelorn said that they had followed the Entwash far enough North. According to his map, they only needed to take an Eastward bearing, and they'd be in East Emnet. Suladân agreed with his assessment, and the party made ready to cross the river.

To make it easier for the horses, both Suladân and Braelorn dismounted and waded through ahead of Dalamyr and Geld, leading them by the reins while Telk and Cina clung to their saddles. They had made it past the halfway point when Suladân lost his footing and was swept up in the current. He let go of Dalamyr's reins, not wanting to drag the horse with him. After a moment of struggling to gain purchase on the river floor, Suladân's downriver movement was halted by a strong arm. "Gotcha." Braelorn grunted, as he held Suladân up while he gained purchase.

Suladân thanked him before making his way back to Dalamyr and taking his reins before resuming the fording. The rest of the way went without incident, and the four travelers were back on their way.

* * *

After only a few minutes of looking over the vast plains of East Emnet, it became clear to both Braelorn and Suladân that finding two Hobbits in this land would not be an easy task. They stood their horses side-by-side as they inquired further as to the location of Telk and Cina's parents. "Was there any specific place that they mentioned?" Braelorn asked both Hobbits simultaneously.

"I don't remember them even mentioning this place." Telk admitted.

Cina shook her head, staring wide-eyed between the two men.

"Our best bet is to just wander, I think. We'll see anyone for miles out here." Suladân commented truthfully. The rolling hills allowed unbroken vision for a league.

So the two riders urged their horses to a run and set out straight East. They rode for hours, with no sign of other travelers. Soon, the hopelessness of their task set in on the two riders, and they shared a doubtful look at each other, then down at their charges before continuing to scan the horizon.

* * *

Suddenly, a group of dark shapes appeared on the Southern horizon, moving quickly in a Northwestern direction. "That looks like a larger group than two Hobbits..." Saludân commented, squinting at the dark shapes.

It took Braelorn a few moments of watching their movements to realize what they were. "Get down, Orcs!"Braelorn whispered hoarsely, before dismounting Geld and pulling Telk off of the saddle. Then, he pulled Geld's head down to the ground. This was some sort of signal to the horse, because it immediately lay down on the grass.

Suladân had dismounted and pulled Cina down, and was wondering how to get Dalamyr down, when he did so of his own accord. "That's a smart horse." Braelorn commented as he got onto his belly and crawled onto the top of a nearby hill, to be able to watch the Orcs.

"And that's a well-trained one." Saludân answered, directed at Geld, before he followed Braelorn onto the hill, keeping low as well. He warned Telk and Cina to stay by the horses, and to keep their heads down.

The Orcs didn't appear to notice the presence of the companions, and continued headed Northwest. Braelorn noticed the Orcs begin to panic and form into rough battle-formations at the same time that Suladân noticed a group of riders, numbered at about 40, riding in from the West, right at the Orcs, their purpose clear.

Both companions alerted each other of their discoveries as the Horsemen formed a wedge formation and collided with the Orcs' weak line. The riders decimated the Orcs with their shortbows and lances, and moved quickly to mop up those that had survived the initial attack. Then, the Riders dismounted and began to pile the bodies of the dead Orcs.

"I think these are the fabled Rohirrim. The Riders of Rohan." Braelorn said excitedly, as he began to get up to hail the riders. Saludân pulled him back and pointed out another rider that had appeared in the West. He rode an all white horse and was dressed completely in white, the same color as his flowing hair and long beard. He raised his white staff and sent a beam of light into the air. The Riders of Rohan turned from their work to face the new arrival.

Once the White Rider had reached the Rohirrim, one of the Riders that Braelorn quickly identified as the one who had led the charge, and was likely Éomer, their leader, approached the White Rider and the two conversed briefly, before Éomer called something to the other Riders, and they all mounted up with a mighty war cry. They formed up behind the White Rider and Éomer and were about to ride off to the West.

Saludân and Braelorn decided together that now was the time to reveal themselves. They simultaneously stood up and Braelorn called, with his booming voice, "Hail, Riders of Rohan!" The Rohirrim turned by direction of Éomer, and closed the distance quickly, surrounding Braelorn and Saludân with a forest of spears.

The White Rider stepped in and said to the Rohirrim, "These are clearly not Orcs, lower your weapons." They complied, returning their spears to carry position.

Braelorn immediately thanked the White Rider and explained, "We're travelling through this area to help our young charges, Hobbit children, to find their parents which we've been told are in this area."

The White Rider looked to the Hobbit Children with a smile before returning his attention to Braelorn. "There is an air of destiny about this meeting. Perhaps it would be best for you to accompany us to Helm's Deep. They are under attack and could use any help they can get." The White Rider offered, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

Éomer entered the conversation at that moment, "I do not think it wise to put our trust in a Southron-" But The White Rider cut him off with a look.

"I think I would be able to suppress the urge to stab every person around me not from Near Harad long enough to help." Suladân stated with a sneer.

Éomer was about to say more, but The White Rider cut him off again, "Then it's settled, you will ride with us immediately for Helm's Deep. Every moment we waste is another life lost." Éomer bowed his head, humbled, before turning his horse about and calling for the Rohirrim to follow.

Braelorn and Suladân returned to their horses, helping them back up to their feet, then lifting the Hobbits up, but this time to the back of the saddle before climbing aboard themselves. They turned their horses in the right direction, before urging them up to full speed, to catch up with the Rohirrim already pulling away.

* * *

"I'm sorry about your parents, Cina." Suladân said over this shoulder to the Hobbit, who was clinging to his back.

"It's alright. I...lied about my parents. They died back in the forest, where you found us. I didn't want you to leave me and my brother behind in the city." Suladân was stunned by the news, but couldn't stay angry at the Hobbit for her manipulation. While she did do it for selfish reasons, he just couldn't stay mad at her.

As they rode with the Rohirrim, Braelorn pulled Geld up beside Dalamyr and called over to Suladân, "I just realized who The White Rider is, it's Gandalf! From the story!" This was news to Suladân, he thought Gandalf was dressed in gray robes, not white.

* * *

They rode for three days and nights, not stopping for anything. Gandalf insisted they didn't stop. Suladân and Braelorn had to put their armor on mid-ride, so they had the Hobbits help by getting the pieces out and working the straps. Braelorn's heavier, steel armor took longer to put on than Suladân's lighter, bone and wood composite armor.

At several points during their riding, Éomer lifted a horn to his lips, and blew a long note. After a few minutes, and a few dozen Rohirrim would join the rapidly growing host. Their number swelled to more than ten times it's original size.

* * *

On the last night, Suladân could tell they were getting close, as sounds of battle reached his ears. He couldn't tell who was winning, or how big of an army they were facing. As they got closer and closer, Gandalf directed the Rohirrim to swing around a ridge, and Suladân could hear the sounds of battle below. They rode around the ridge until it sounded like they were on the East side of the battle.

Then, Gandalf began to recite something, "Look to my coming on the first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East." As if right on cue, the sun burst from the Eastern horizon as Gandalf turned the host of Rohirrim down a steep slide of gravel. Suladân could see thousands of dark bodies below, assaulting a fortress built into the side of the mountain. As dozens of horns were blown by the Rohirrim charging down the slide, the dark bodies turned and looked directly into the blinding light. Gandalf rode at the front, with Éomer, Suladân, and Braelorn just behind.


	11. Battle of Helm's Deep

Horse hooves, pounding the ground like thunder. War horns, contesting for the position of loudest calls. The war calls of the Rohirrim riding behind them, giving testament to their bloodlines before they went to their end. The cries of the Orcs below, gaining volume rapidly as Dalamyr charged down the gravel slide. These noises and many more assaulted Suladân's ears. He thought it strange that, just before entering something so full of death, he would be surrounded by so many signs of life.

He looked down at the Orcs turning to face the oncoming Rohirrim. The fierce dawn sunlight blinded them, and they weren't able to get their horse-killing spears up in time. Then, the first collision came. And with the resounding thud of Gandalf's staff colliding with Orcish skull, all sound seemed to die down to Suladân. His vision narrowed to focus on the two or three Orcs in front of him, then Dalamyr's massive chest barreled through them, knocking them aside. Suladân struck out with his spear, piercing the exposed neck of an Orc on his right.

Quickly, he switched hands, and felled another. He took a brief moment to look back, as Dalamyr's momentum carried him through more Orcs. Braelorn, mouth open wide with a war cry that Suladân could not hear, brought his knight's mace down with bone-cracking force on the head of an Orc. Éomer, at his side, cut deep into Orc flesh with his sword. Then the great waves of Rohirrim, pouring down the slide after their leaders, spears, came with their bows, axes, and swords ready to fell more Orcs, to save their brethren trapped within the fortress, and especially, the innocents deeper within.

Dalamyr was surrounded on all sides by Orcs, but the war horse knew how to handle himself. He kept forging forwards, keeping up his momentum and not allowing any Orcs to stop him. He cut a wide swath, and before the Orcs could close in around his back end, Braelorn and Éomer followed, cutting down more Orcs as they went.

Suladân released Dalamyr's reins, snatching an Orcish sword out of the hands of its previous owner. Using the Orc sword, and his spear, He felled Orcs on both sides. The Rohirrim swept through the Orcs Gandalf, Suladân, Éomer, and Braelorn had missed. Killing them all. They continued to sweep outward, leaving no Orc alive in their path.

Suladân looked to the fortress, and saw a group of horsemen charging down the previously Orc-occupied causeway of the fortress. _Crazy fools._ Suladân thought with hypocritical satisfaction. Taking up Dalamyr's reins for a brief moment, he turned the mighty horse towards them, before returning to hacking at and stabbing the Orcs to either side.

Dalamyr kept his new heading, and his older momentum, barreling through the Orcs getting in his way. By now, the Orcs had readied themselves against the Rohirrim's charge, bringing up their long spears. And soon, the screams of horses and dying men joined the cavalcade. A sharp pain cut into Suladân's left shoulder and he dropped the Orc blade. Looking for the source, he saw an Orc hefting a spear to Dalamyr's left. A thrown knife quickly downed the Orc, aimed for it's exposed neck.

Up ahead, Suladân could see a line of Orcs leveling their pikes at Dalamyr's chest level. Saludân snatched the remaining knives out of his right bracer and threw them all at once at the Orcs. The knives either killed instantly, or forced the Orcs to lower their spears with their wounding impact. Dalamyr barreled through them, throwing their bodies left-and-right.

* * *

Behind Saludân, Braelorn heard the sharp sound of bow strings, and snapped his shield up, catching five out of the half dozen bolts shot his way by a group of Orcs armed with crossbows. The fifth bolt buried itself in Geld's side, piercing rib and lung. The pain brought the battle-hardened horse down, and threw Braelorn and Telk from the saddle. The two rolled head over heels until stopping amidst the bodies of the Orcs killed by Saludân. Quickly, Braelorn snatched up the vulnerable Hobbit with his shield arm, using the large shield to protect the Hobbit and holding Telk close to his armored chest.

Suladân continued on, oblivious to his companion's plight. Braelorn stood alone in the sea of Orcs. Suladân charging ahead, and the Rohirrim a good few yards off. The Knight had been in worse situations before. He was still in good physical condition, having had sufficient time to recover from the arrow wounds. He had his armor and weapons still with him and put them to great use, felling Orcs that came within reach of his sword.

Eventually, the Orcs formed a ring around him, stabbing at him from a distance with their long spears. His armor deflected the stabs, and Telk remained unscathed within his embrace. But the impacts still hurt, and he was tiring. Soon, they would be able to get within his guard. He made as if to charge at one part of the circle, but they tightened their spear grouping, and forced him to back down. If Braelorn didn't have any help soon, he would die.

Then that help came, in the form of a wall of Rohirrim. They charged into the circle and quickly engulfed the Orcs, and Braelorn. They passed over after a moment, revealing Braelorn curled up around Telk, close to the ground. The mighty warrior stood up slowly and looked around, wondering at how he could be alive and where the good fortune that had protected him had came from.

He spotted a riderless horse and leaped astride it, sheathing his sword and grabbing a spear that had been stuck into the ground next to him. Quickly, Braelorn was returning to the battle.

* * *

Suladân reached the small group of riders that were now awash in the horde of Orcs. Suladân joined them as they began to slaughter any Orcs that came within reach. The tide of the battle had reversed, and the Orcs were fleeing into the forest.

As Saludân felled the last Orc within his sight, all sound seemed to return in a rush. Braelorn was calling to him as he rode over. Saludân turned to greet him, glad that his friend had survived. Many Rohirrim were killed in the charge, but they killed many more Orcs and saved the lives of the soldiers holding within the Keep.

Braelorn spied Gandalf, off on a ridge with Éomer, a man in full plate armor astride a white horse who might have been the King of Rohan, and three others. A man with an air of nobility about him. Not the same nobility as the envoy in Minas Tirith, but a Kingly nobility, one earned by many years of strife. Then there was a blonde elf and a dwarf, astride the same horse.

The group of riders looked off to the North and spoke of things unheard by the four companions, whom set off for the Keep, looking for a place to rest and recuperate. Before long, however, they were joined by Gandalf.

"I am glad to see you survived the battle. I would hate to see people with so much destiny wasted on someone else's war." Gandalf commented with a smile. Suladân nodded, letting the wizard continue. "There is a favor I would ask of you. I consider it very important that a message be carried for me to the forest of Lothlorien to the North."

Braelorn and Suladân looked at each other, thinking it through, then down at their charges. The children could offer no input. Before they could give an answer, Gandalf added, "You don't have to set out immediately, it's just that I won't be able to do it myself any time soon, and it needs to get there at some point. You're welcome to come to Edoras with my companions and me to rest and maybe even celebrate this bloody victory." Gandalf chuckled, then waited for their response.

Braelorn looked to Suladân to answer for them. After another moment of consideration, Suladân turned to the wizard and said, "I don't think we have anything better to do, so yes, we'll bring this message there for you. But, we do not know the way."

Gandalf laughed at this and said, "That will be taken care of in time. For now, come, to Edoras!" he cried, before riding off to join his companions, who were already setting out with the remaining Rohirrim in an Eastern direction. The two companions urged their horses to action, following the White Rider.


	12. Rest and Recuperation

The ride to Edoras was a quiet one for the four companions. The Hobbits were switched to their position in front of Suladân and Braelorn. None of them talked, even though the Rohirrim around them were exuberant, almost jolly by comparison. Suladân felt guilty for not noticing Braelorn and Telk's plight when Geld had gone down. He made a solemn promise to never get so caught up in battle again.

As a short-term measure, Suladân bound the wound in his left shoulder with strips torn from the bottom of his traveling cloak. He hoped it would be enough for now. Braelorn's chest and back were covered with bruises. While his armor had protected him from flesh wounds, the impacts still made small movements twinge painfully. He kept his back erect and kept himself going with the thought of a warm, soft bed waiting for him.

At first, Telk had been shaken by how close he had come to death. He'd never felt so helpless and small as when he had been standing on his own, awash in a sea of Orcs. Now, he was completely over his fear, and was trying to tell Braelorn of how much he had enjoyed the experience and couldn't wait for the next battle, but the Knight was too focused on moving as little as possible.

Cina's mind constantly wandered back to the images of rabbling Orcs all about her, the bursts of blood as Suladân plunged his spear again and again into their flesh. The panic she had felt when Suladân had been smote in the shoulder. She hoped to never experience another battle again.

While all of the companions were absorbed in their own thoughts, the ride went quickly. The city soon came into sight, but the companions were too tired and battle weary to appreciate the city's homely beauty. They rode through the open gates, stabled their horses, and settled in to rest for the remainder of the night in the lodging provided by Éomer.

* * *

Suladân woke up first the next day, and moved out into the city, seeking some form of aid for his injured shoulder. He received directions from one of the city guard, and headed off to the local healer, who had just set up after the battle. As he walked, he could see people coming into Edoras, peasants that had been evacuated to Helm's Deep, but were now permitted to return to their homes.

The rest of the companions woke at irregular intervals. Cina was first, but she remained in the room provided by Éomer for the companions, looking out a window for Suladân. Then Telk awoke. Within a matter of minutes, he was marching about the room, reenacting the battle, using a wooden spoon as a sword. Then, Braelorn awoke with a moan. The bruises still hurt when he moved.

Braelorn watched Telk bandy about, and saw that he was imitating Braelorn's role. He laughed aloud as Telk gave a spectacular imitation of Braelorn rolling end-over-end when he was unhorsed. Telk looked up at Braelorn, and Cina glanced briefly from her vigil. Braelorn sat up with a groan, thinking, _A cold bath would be good right about now._

"I'm going to go out for a while. Stay here until either myself or Suladân return." he ordered the children, whom both gave their assent. Braelorn set out wearing only his knight's surcoat, his breeches, and his riding boots. He wandered about, looking for some place to get a bath, but then he was reminded of the horse he rode into Edoras. It wasn't his, and he should seek out the owner. He headed first for the stables where he left the chestnut mare.

* * *

He was surprised to find a woman waiting there. He stopped and couldn't help but stare. She had long, silver blond hair that reached to her upper back. She had a slim, elegant build, like the kind he had only heard of Elves possessing. She wore a white blouse with a rich green waistcoat over it. Braelorn was surprised to see a woman wearing a pair of brown trousers and knee-high riding boots. Braelorn stared in awe, watching her brush the chestnut mare's mane.

"You'll catch flies, with a mouth that wide-open." the woman commented. Braelorn jumped, not aware that she had known he had been standing there. He closed his mouth quickly with a clomp that brought a smile to the woman's face.

"I'm sorry, it's just I came to check on the horse-" Braelorn began to explain, but the woman cut him off.

"Her name is With." she corrected idly, not looking away from her work.

"Oh, right, well. During the battle at Helm's Deep, my horse was killed, and well...I jumped on the first horse I saw that was unowned. I was protecting a child at the time, and I wanted to be in the safest place possible.

"A child? In a battle...that wasn't very wise. It-" the woman started to reprimand Braelorn, but he cut her off.

"Telk. His name is Telk." he corrected with a small smile.

"I see...Telk should've been with the women and children in the caverns." the woman stated, an edge creeping into her voice.

"I take it you were with them, in the caverns?" Braelorn inquired.

"Yes, and it took two soldiers and a locked door to bring me down there and keep me down there." she said, her hand balling into a fist, still tangled in With's mane. "Still, protecting a child in the midst of battle. A truly Knightly act."

Braelorn opened his mouth to ask her why she knew he was a Knight, but the woman cut him off yet again. "Only a Knight would gallivant about protecting children in the midst of battle when his own life is at stake. Also, the silver filigree on your surcoat didn't help either." Braelorn looked down at himself with a nervous smile.

"You do seem to know a lot about Gondorian Knights, for a woman." Braelorn could tell rather quickly that he made a mistake, as the woman turned on him, quick as blink, with a dagger in her hand, holding it up to his throat threateningly.

"And what makes you think that that kind of knowledge is unfit for a woman?" she stared at Braelorn for a few moments, then she added, "My names is Erianne, thank you for bringing my father's horse back." she kissed the Knight's broad cheek briefly, before walking off, sheathing the dagger in her belt.

Braelorn watched her leave, a bewildered expression on his face. "I think I'm in love..." he murmured under his breath.

* * *

Braelorn wandered back to their lodgings, the bewildered expression still on his face. He walked in and sat in a chair, not responding to Telk's immediate questioning. Moments later, Suladân entered, his exposed left shoulder bandaged. "What's wrong with Braelorn?" he questioned casually, noting his blank expression and his apparent detachment from the world around him.

"I don't know, he hasn't said anything for as long as he's been here." Telk reported, staring up at Braelorn, prodding him in the knee once or twice, but getting no response. The companions all settled down, either sitting in silence, watching others sit in silence, gazing out a window, or pouring over Braelorn's map of Rohan and Gondor.

Suladân looked up from Braelorn's map as a knock came at the door. It was Éomer, leader of the Rohirrim. Éomer directed a nod at Suladân, whom returned it. Their earlier squabble was settled. "I came to apologize for my earlier distrust. You fought well in the battle, and there is no longer any doubt in my mind."

Suladân nodded in response and was about to return to studying the Northern edge of Braelorn's map, when Éomer added, "There is to be a celebration later in the night. You are all invited." then he left without another word, and the room returned to silence once again.

Braelorn seemed to come back to them just as Éomer left. "Are we going or not?" he inquired, causing his companions to jump at the unexpected noise.

"Well, I'm not. I don't feel like dealing with a bunch of drunk foreigners." Suladân remarked, still scanning the Northern edge of Braelorn's map for some sign of Lothlorien, but the map stopped in the midst of Fangorn Forest.

"Are you going Braelorn?" Telk inquired, grinning ear-to-ear.

"Of course, I'm hardly one to miss out on high spririts!" the Knight cried, jumping to his feet and lifting Telk up with him. He made towards the door, tucking Telk under his arm, the child screaming in delight the entire time. As he passed her, Braelorn inquired of Cina, "Are you coming?" the child shook her head, not taking her gaze from the world outside.

With a shrug, Braelorn set off from the room, following the crowds of people outside filtering uptown to the Hall of Meduseld.

* * *

After a few minutes of silence, Suladân said aloud, directed at Cina, "I know you feel guilty about lying to me and Braelorn. And I understand why you didn't want to be left behind. I was alone for much of my youth. If you wanted to stay with Braelorn and me, all you need to do is ask." During this entire speech, Suladân didn't look up from the map.

When he did, he was surprised to see Cina running at him. He fell onto his back in surprise, and soon the small child had her arms around Suladân's neck with a vice-like grip. Suladân was completely surprised by the gesture and patted the child on the back akwardly until she let go. "I'm sorry for surprising you, Sue, but I was just so happy you weren't angry at me." Cina admitted, a wide smile on her face.

"It's quite alright." Suladân consoled, returning the smile.

"I think I'll join Braelorn and Telk." Cina stated, rushing off and into the street.

Shaking his head at the child's foolishness, Suladân rolled up Braelorn's map and returned it to his pack . Looking about the empty room, Suladân decided there couldn't be much harm with going to the celebration, for a little while at least.


	13. The Victorious Dead

Suladân had only just entered the Hall of Meduseld when he was approached by Gandalf. The two walked away from all of the noise and bustle into a secluded corner. "I have here a map of Rohan and the Southern Wilderland. It will see you well on your journey. I also have the message. It is sealed, and I expect it to stay that way until it reaches the hands of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel." Gandalf explained, staring sternly into Suladân's face until he acknowledged Gandalf's wishes with a nod.

"To help stay your curiosity, I will tell you the purpose of the message. To put it simply, it is to tell the Elves of Lorien that I am alive once again, and that they should be wary of Sauron's forces moving North." the wizard continued. Saludân raised an eyebrow inquisitively at Gandalf, but he shook his head. "That will be explanation enough."

Then, the wizard was gone. Saludân stood in the secluded corner, looking over the new map, before he tucked the papers into his belt and rejoined the celebration. Once he had sampled a Rohan brew and found it satisfactory, he settled down at a table to wait out the celebration. He didn't go looking for his friends, preferring to spend the time attempting to think with all of the noise about him.

* * *

Cina quickly found Telk amongst the throng and at the same time found Braelorn. The Knight appeared to have found the high spirits he was looking for in the form of two Hobbits, dancing on a table and singing of a tavern unknown to all who were listening to their song, but it was an appropriate one, and they banged their tankards on the table, matching the Hobbit's steps.

"-you can drink 'em by the flagon! But the only ale for the brave and true, comes from the Green Dragon!" At the end of their song, the two Hobbits downed the remainder of the ale in their tankards as a roar went up amongst the spectators, that Braelorn contributed to with gusto.

Then, all of the high spirits in the hall instantly plummeted, as the gathered throngs turned to face their king, Theoden, as he gave a speech about how their victory came with great loss. Even Saludân stood up to listen, wondering whether or not the soldiers that had died when he had opened the Osgiliath gate for the Orcs had received similar honors. As one, the celebrators lifted their tankards in a final drink and salute to the 'victorious dead' as the King had called them at the end of his speech.

* * *

The celebrations went on with a somewhat more subdued atmosphere. Braelorn caught sight of Erianne, and dismissed himself from the table he had been sitting at. He shuffled through the crowd, excusing himself as he went and apologizing whenever he jostled someone, which was often for someone of such a large build. Suladân watched him go without passing comment.

Soon, Telk and Cina found Suladân because Braelorn was nowhere to be seen. The Hobbit children sat down at his table and joined in on his respective silence. "Where do you suppose Braelorn's gone?" Telk inquired, bored of the silence.

"I don't rightly know. He seemed to be chasing after something, though." Saludân commented idly. _Or someone._

* * *

Braelorn caught up to Erianne just as she exited the hall. "My lady!" he called, to get her attention. She turned with a contemptuous look on her face at the formality, but the edge in her expression seemed to dull slightly as she saw whom had addressed her.

"It occurred to me that I did not properly introduce myself, last we met." Braelorn began, clasping his hands behind his back nervously. Erianne watched in silence. "My name is Braelorn." he added, holding his hand out to shake, before quickly withdrawing it.

"It also occurred to me that you were offended by my comment earlier as well, and I sincerely apologize for the behavior. It's just that where I come from, the women do not often become involved in soldiering matters." he explained, wringing his left hand nervously with his right.

"The women you are used to do not have the strength to know of fighting." Erianne remarked. She studied Braelorn's face as he continued to wring his hands nervously, when she surprised him by asking, "Did you ever see the rider of the horse you took-"

But then, Braelorn cut her off, "I believe the name of the horse was With." Erianne smiled briefly at his correction, and then it quickly faded as she continued her questioning. Braelorn was saddened to see it go after so brief a time.

"Yes, With's rider. Did you happen to see what happened to him? How he died?" Braelorn closed his eyes in concentration, trying to remember. He could not. But, he could tell that this knowledge would be important to Erianne, so he did his best to supplicate his bad memory with kind words.

"I do not remember, but I am sure he died bravely, and happily in defense of those he loved and cherished." Braelorn attempted a sympathetic smile to accompany these words.

However, Erianne had nowhere near the reaction Braelorn was expecting. "I do not need your sympathy or comfort. I am not like the women you are used to. I know of battle and death. It is not brave to die, it is an end, an inglorious and bloody end." Then, she turned and began to walk away.

In a spur of the moment decision, Braelorn jumped forward, and lightly grasped her elbow to keep her from getting away. "I'm sorry for offending you again, it was not my wish. I didn't want you to feel sad about it. I-" he began to explain, but Erianne cut him off by doing something he had not come to expect from her.

She turned and buried her face in his chest and muttered, tears running down her cheeks, "He was my father..." After a moment of shock, Braelorn put a hand on her back comfortingly, but nothing else. After a few moments, Erianne pulled away, wiping the tears from her eyes. "That was not like me, but it seemed that all the grief I'd been suppressing had settled on my heart all at once and I felt...weak."

"That's what happens when you keep your feelings inside. Maybe it would help to talk of it." Braelorn suggested. Erianne nodded in assent and began to walk back towards the celebration. Braelorn followed and soon, they were sitting at a secluded table with a tankard of ale in front of each of them, and Erianne told Braelorn of her childhood.

* * *

She told him of how her mother had always told her to be strong and to never show weakness. To never let someone say 'No, you cannot do that' to her because she was a woman. Erianne grew strong and free willed under her mother's guidance while her father was away fighting with the King, his brother. There was a constant fear between Erianne and her mother that her father wouldn't come back, that he would die fighting. But every time he came home, they didn't show it to him. Then he would leave and the worrying would start again.

"I had finally swallowed my pride enough to tell him of our worry, this last time he went off. I was going to tell him that I wanted him to stay, that he was too old to keep fighting, but he died before I could tell him..." Erianne explained, holding back her tears and taking a deep drink of ale. She breathed in deep and let it out slowly, calming herself down.

"I know something of campaigning, and I don't think your father would have wanted to stop fighting. He wouldn't have wanted to die at home, in bed. He got his wish that he would die on the battlefield, with a sword in his hand and the knowledge that he was keeping you and your mother safe." Braelorn soothed, talking in low murmurs so that only Erianne could hear him.

Erianne's head sank, and she began to cry freely, knowing Braelorn's words to be true. Braelorn reached out and put his hand over Erianne's attempting to comfort her. After crying for a few minutes, Erianne wiped her eyes and looked up at Braelorn. "Thank you." she said. Braelorn nodded in answer and the two sat in silence, looking at each other.

"Enough of me and my loss. Maybe you could take my mind off it by telling me about you." Erianne said with a small smile.

Braelorn returned the smile before starting to tell Erianne of his life and the events that led to him coming to Rohan and fighting at Helm's Deep.

* * *

At the end of Braelorn's narrative, Erianne seemed to be considering something. "I think I'd like to come with you to deliver the message." she stated. Braelorn looked at her for some sign that she was joking, but he could instantly tell that she was serious.

"Well, I would have to wonder why you wanted to come..." Braelorn said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Erianne while trying to rationalize her request to himself.

"I feel like I owe you something for helping me like this." Erianne explained, shrugging her shoulders to indicate that she didn't fully understand either.

"Well, I don't think I'd have a problem with it, to be honest." Braelorn explained, exchanging a brief smile with Erianne before continuing, "However, I'd have to ask my companions. And what of your mother?"

"I'll talk with my mother. I believe she'll understand." Erianne assured him, then realized that Braelorn's hand was still on top of hers. She withdrew her hand quickly, clasping them under the table. "Why don't we meet tomorrow, at With's stable?" she suggested.

"I'll be there, then." Braelorn declared, before getting quickly to his feet and rushing off to find Saludân. Erianne looked down at her hands with a frown, wondering at what she was feeling.


	14. Departing Edoras

The celebrations had gone so late the previous night that at the crack of dawn, no one awoke. The intense light fell directly on Telk's face, but he turned right over and went on sleeping. Edoras began to come to life around the room of sleeping companions. The women were up bright, early, and getting right to work. The men took a few more hours, and awoke with heavy hangovers.

Suladân had avoided heavy drinking, and managed to be up an hour after sunrise. He had a slight headache and his tongue felt like it was partially covered with fuzz, but he was still able to sit up and look out at the morning sun. Then immediately look away, temporarily blinded. He rubbed his eyes until he was able to see again, then got up and wandered out onto the street. He went to a rainwater barrel nearby and dunked his head inside.

He came up, hair and head soaking, and shook himself dry like a dog. A group of wandering children laughed at his antics, and Suladân managed a small smile in return. He returned to their room, still dripping. The noise of his footsteps woke up both Telk and Cina. They sat up and stretched, yawning, before they began to get up and move about, wondering what they would be doing today.

The children casually went about their business, and Suladân looked over Gandalf's map, the message still tucked safely within his belt. They all waited for Braelorn to wake up.

* * *

Telk sat, watching him sleep for a while before, predictably, getting bored and began nudging him in the arm. His nudging quickly progressed to open-hand slapping him on the arm. Braelorn stirred in response, and Telk stopped immediately. He watched as Braelorn slowly opened his eyes, frowning as the sunlight got into them.

He blinked rapidly, and was soon able to tell that it was Telk leaning over him. "Alright, I'm awake." he muttered, sitting up slowly as his hangover kicked into overdrive. Moaning, he sat all the way up, holding his head.

"I've found that the that rain barrel outside helps." Suladân advised, smiling down at Gandalf's map. Braelorn stood up slowly and stumbled out of the room. A huge splash was heard, and soon Braelorn returned, head soaking wet.

"I'll give you that one." Braelorn remarked at Suladân. His head did feel a little better. He leaned against the wall and sighed, waiting for his hangover to abate.

"I think we should set out soon. I've gotten what we needed from Gandalf." Suladân suggested conversationally, shrugging. "We do need to get some supplies first, I can take care of those while you recover. Although I think you'd be best to find yourself another horse." he added, rolling up the map and tucking it into his belt as he stood up.

"I could come with you, Sue!" Cina offered.

"You're right, I could use an extra pair of hands." Suladân admitted, before setting out, Cina in tow, leaving Braelorn and Telk alone in the room. Something in Suladân's suggestion stirred a faint memory of Braelorn's, but it was still fuzzy.

Then, it clicked. "Telk, I'll be right back, stay here." Braelorn ordered, before dashing out of the room, his hangover temporarily forgotten as he ran for the stables. A confused Telk watched him go, wondering what to do with himself.

* * *

As Braelorn come up to the stables, he chided himself for forgetting about Erianne waiting for him. Braelorn slowed to a walk when he came up to With's stable, taking time to catch his breath.

Inside was Erianne, saddling With. She wore the same clothes as yesterday, except with armor consisting of leather padding over her chest, shoulders, and thighs. She also wore a mail shirt underneath the leather. A shortbow and quiver as well as a round shield, 2-feet across, were hanging from With's saddle, and an axe of the same type used by the Rohirrim was hanging from her belt.

"Hello, Braelorn." she commented casually, not looking up from her work.

"I'm sorry about being late, I had just..." Braelorn started to explain, but he paused, unable to admit that he had drank too much.

"It's quite alright, you're not the only man suffering under a hangover today." Erianne commented, just as casually as before.

"Well, alright then...I assume your mother is in support of you joining us on our journey to Lorien?" Braelorn inquired, moving to help with the saddling of With, but Erianne already had everything done.

"She does not like it, but she knows that she cannot stop me. So she gave her blessing. When do we depart?" Erianne answered, standing up straight and turning to Braelorn, her work completed.

"Well, I don't know. Sometime later today. We're gathering supplies. And I need another horse..." Braelorn said, wondering how he could accomplish that goal.

"I already have one saddled for you, next door." she said, leading the way out of With's stable and into the one nearby. "He's a bigger horse, should be able to bear the weight of you and your armor." she commented.

Braelorn walked around the horse appreciatively, noting the stallion's steel gray coloration and his size, although not as large as Dalamyr. True to her word, the horse was already saddled and appeared well-fed and ready for travel. "What is his name?" Braelorn inquired, looking around the horse at Erianne.

"He is your horse to name." Erianne said with a shrug.

Braelorn considered for a few moments. "Eärnur, for the last King of Gondor." Braelorn declared, putting a hand on Eärnur's head and christened him with his new name.

"It is a good name." Erianne commented, and Braelorn nodded, moving around Eärnur to Erianne. "Thank you, he is a Kingly horse."

"You are most welcome. But now, we have spent enough time here, we should return to your friends." Erianne said with a small smile, indicating that Braelorn should lead the way. And he did, walking in the direction of the room the companions shared.

* * *

They arrived at the same time that Suladân and Cina returned. In addition to enough food to restock their saddlebags, Suladân also carried a new spear and two Rohan longswords. The spear and one of the swords were to replace the hunting spear and short blade that Suladân had lost in the battle. The other longsword was to replace the one Braelorn had lost. He took the offering with gratitude and was soon introducing Erianne.

"Suladân, Cina, this is Erianne. I was hoping that she might join us on our journey. I doubt we will be able to deny her." he said nervously. Suladân looked her up and down appreciatively, noting her armor, axe, and determined expression. He nodded, before walking into the room and setting his burdens on the floor, next to his other possessions. Cina did the same.

They were soon joined by Erianne and Braelorn. Braelorn made introductions between Telk and Erianne.

"So, do you have a horse?" Suladân inquired of Braelorn shortly afterward.

"Yes, Erianne provided him." Braelorn answered. The two were standing just outside of the room, wherein Telk, Cina, and Erianne were making preparations to leave.

"I assume Erianne won't be a hindrance to us?" Suladân inquired, raising an eyebrow at Braelorn.

"Of course not, she can take care of herself." Braelorn responded nervously.

"All right then. We'll set off immediately." Suladân said, nodding to Braelorn before reentering the room.

* * *

Within the hour, the companions had gathered all of their belongings and walked to the stables, where they filled their saddlebags with more than enough supplies to get them to Lothlorien. Then, they were leaving the stables astride their respective horses. Cina rode with Suladân atop Dalamyr, Telk with Braelorn atop Eärnur, and Erianne atop With.

They rode for the gates of Edoras at a walk, Suladân in the lead. In a matter of minutes, a small crowd was seeing them off. Once outside the gates, Suladân turned Dalamyr North, with Braelorn and Erianne following suit.


	15. Into Fangorn Forest

The first week of the journey to Lothlorien passed uneventfully. After a difficult first day and night, the companions were settled back into life on the road. At night, Braelorn told the Hobbits stories from his childhood and the legends of his people and Suladân studied the map provided by Gandalf carefully. Not just the route they would be taking, but the other lands as well.

The addition of Erianne to the party brought about a significant change. She was a very adept cook, and produced food of the quality that Kings ate daily from the meager supplies the party had in their saddlebags. On the first night of Erianne's cooking, Braelorn looked across the fire at Suladân, a cocky smile on his face. Suladân rolled his eyes in response and kept eating. Every night, Telk would make a big show of Erianne's cooking, vividly thanking her with a hug about the knees and constant compliments.

* * *

On the sixth day, a vast forest came into view. Everyone except Suladân and Erianne became excited. Braelorn, Telk, and Cina thought they had reach Lothlorien Forest already. But Suladân pulled out Gandalf's map and showed them that it was Fangorn Forest, Lothlorien was another two weeks away. The party's spirits were dampened somewhat by this news, but they were restored by the next day, when they reached Fangorn Forest.

* * *

As the party was breaking camp on the seventh day of their journey, they discussed the route they would take from there.

"It might be faster to go through the Forest, rather than going around it. It'd save us a day in the long run." Suladân suggested.

"No, that would be as suicide. The Forest is filled with dark spirits." Erianne stated, adamant.

"Have you ever seen one of these spirits? Is there any proof?" Suladân shot back.

The two glared at each from opposite ends of the camp site, Telk and Cina's heads going back-and-forth, following the exchange.

"Look, the safer route would be to go around. It would be best to take a route with as little danger as possible." Braelorn declared, taking a position squarely between the two arguing companions.

"I don't think that the route around the forest will be so safe, either." said Suladân, looking off and to the Southeast. The rest of the party turned to see a huge group of Orcs, numbered at about 100 and with a single, large shape in the center. A Troll.

They were a league away and had not seen the small group of companions. However, the party knew that could quickly change so they moved quickly to kick out the fire and run for the nearest cover: Fangorn Forest.

From the cover of the trees, the party watched as the Orc horde moved North and quickly out of sight. As soon as they were gone, the party let out a collective sigh of relief. "That was close." Braelorn said, sitting down heavily on a rock.

"I don't think we're done with them yet. You see where they were headed?" Suladân inquired, looking in the direction they had gone. "North. Towards Lorien." he added, looking around at his companions with an air of panic.

"Then we need to get there first." Erianne stated, grabbing With's reins and turning towards deeper into the forest. Braelorn and Suladân followed her with the reins of their horses. Telk and Cina sat on Dalamyr and Eärnur's saddles.

* * *

"We won't have time to stop and rest. The Orcs and that Troll certainly won't take the time." Suladân commented, following Erianne's lead.

"Agreed. We might be able to have two people rest on horseback while the third leads the horses on foot..." Braelorn suggested next.

"Not in this forest." Erianne said, quashing the idea. "Though we would be able to do something similar once we're out in the open again." she added.

Telk and Cina looked with wide eyes at the trees going past. "They're moving!" Cina screeched at one point.

"Those are the spirits I spoke of. These trees are ancient, filled with anger." Erianne explained to the party in general. "Ents, they're called. Tree herders."

* * *

After hours of walking, with only the sun to guide them in the correct direction, the forest seemed to press in on the companions. When it began to approach night time, a potential problem appeared.

"When it's dark, we won't be able to see which way is North. We'll get lost. We should stop for the night somewhere." Braelorn reasoned, looking around for just such a place.

"If we stop, the Ents will attack us." Erianne stated, as if that fact alone absolved the matter.

"And you're afraid of trees?" Suladân teased with a smirk. "You're the one with the axe." Braelorn and Suladân laughed, until Erianne silenced them both with a look.

"I can navigate using the stars. Their position never changes." Erianne explained.

True to her word, Erianne took the lead that night and led them on as straight a course as they could hold in the forest, holding a Northward direction.

* * *

They traveled for two days and nights without any interference from the Ents. Suladân had began to doubt their existence when a scream resounded behind him. He ripped his sword from its sheath to see Cina being pulled off of Dalamyr's saddle by a branch. Suladân jumped onto Dalamyr's back and leaped through the air, cutting through the branch and grabbing hold of Cina, holding her close to his chest with one arm.

The trees seemed to lean in closer to the party on all sides and Cina buried her face in Suladân's chest in fear. Braelorn and Erianne drew their weapons in response. "We should get out of here. We've long overstayed our welcome. Maybe we're ahead of the Orcs by now." Suladân suggested, backing wearily towards Dalamyr.

And so, with their weapons drawn, the party began to head directly Northeast, Erianne taking the lead. Branches caught on their clothes at several points, but they were immediately repelled with severing strikes.

* * *

Just as the sun began to rise, the party broke from the trees, disheveled, tired, and hungry.

"No time to waste, we need to keep moving." Erianne stated, climbing aboard With and turning towards the North. Braelorn and Suladân followed her example. Suladân looked to the South, and could just barely make out the Orcs on the Southern horizon.

"Maybe we could extend our lead." Suladân called up, urging Dalamyr to a gallop. The walking pace they had held for the last two days had only slightly tired out their horses, and they were able to maintain full speed for a decent amount of time, before it was necessary for them to slow down to a trot.

* * *

When night approached, the party considered stopping, but they decided to have two people sleep in their saddles, with the third leading the other two riders' horses.

Suladân took the first shift awake, guiding Dalamyr with his knees while holding one set of reins to each hand. A third of the night later, it was Erianne's turn, then Braelorn's. At the start of the day, Braelorn let Erianne and Suladân sleep on. When they woke up, he gave the reins back to them and they continued riding.

After two days and one more night of continuing in this manner, the party first caught sight of Lothlorien.


	16. The Message Will Have to Wait

A wave of relief washed over the five companions as Lothlorien came into sight. Their efforts had gained them a day's lead on the Orc invaders behind them. However, it had left them feeling sore and stiff from being in the saddle for so long, and their horses couldn't possibly have much left in them. Suladân, Braelorn, and Erianne dismounted and led their horses on foot.

* * *

The sun was at its highest point when the party reached the forest. As soon as they entered the shadows of the first evergreen trees, a feeling of immense history and memory, spanning thousands of years, pressed in on the companions. They exchanged weary glances, before forging onward.

* * *

Within minutes, Suladân had a feeling of being watched. His gaze roved over the forest paths ahead, looking for the source. But he was looking in the wrong place. A branch directly overhead him dipped, and a lithe figure dropped directly in front of him, flicking a slender Elven sword up to his throat.

A moment later, four more Elves appeared out of the trees and surrounded Braelorn and Erianne. Their drawn bows ready to kill at a moment's notice.

The party kept their hands in sight, knowing that a false move could mean death. Suladân stared at the Elf across from him, noting that the Elf was a woman and appeared beautiful, but that was to be expected.

Then she was speaking, "What would a Southron, a Knight of Gondor, and a woman from Rohan be doing this far to the North. I understand that your peoples have wars to fight."

"Our business is our own." Erianne stated defiantly, taking a step forward, but she was stopped by one of the Elves holding her at arrow point.

Suladân shot her a warning look, before saying, "We bear a message from Gandalf the Gray, er White. And we have instructions to show it only to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel." The Elf woman's sharp gaze returned to Suladân, appraising him with a critical eye.

"These are dark and dangerous times. Made more dangerous still by the Orcs you have brought with you. They will arrive with the night. They must be dealt with before your message can be delivered." the Elf woman stated, looking at Suladân for another few moments. She appeared to come to a decision, and sheathed her sword.

The other four Elves returned their arrows to their quivers, and held their bows at their sides. "We could help with the Orcs." Braelorn offered with Suladân and Erianne giving small nods in assent of his offer.

The Elf woman smiled in response then turned around and began to walk away. "You wouldn't have any other choice." she said over her shoulder. The other four Elves formed up behind the companions, their message clear. They were to follow the Elf woman into the forest. The companions exchanged a brief glance, before Suladân started forward, leading Dalamyr. Braelorn, Erianne, and the four Elves followed soon after.

* * *

After half an hour of walking, the group came upon what appeared to be a staging area for the Elves that defended Lothlorien's borders. Dozens of Elves moved about the area. They were dressed in full battle gear, each Elf carrying a bow and sword. Several of the trees nearby had houses built around them, high up in the air. Elves were often seen climbing down or up to the houses on rope ladders.

Telk and Cina looked around in awe. However, they did not have long to look, as the Elf woman at the head of their group led them past the houses to a table made out of a stump. Several Elves were grouped around it, and appeared to be discussing an upcoming battle. They stopped as they saw who was approaching.

The Elf woman nodded to the Elves around the stump, before moving around it and talking with a low voice to the Elf at the center of the group. When she was done, the Elf woman backed away from the group, standing to the side and assuming a passive stance.

The Elf she had been talking to turned to the party. He had an air of command that demanded respect, and received it. It was clear he was the Elf in charge. "So..." he began, "what am I to assume when strangers arrive on our doorstep, demanding to see our leaders and claiming to have a message from someone reportedly dead. It wouldn't help those strangers if a company of Orcs had appeared as soon as they did." the Elf stated, looked over entwined fingers at the party.

Braelorn responded, indignant, "We have offered to help you against the Orcs. Surely you would give us a chance, at least, to prove that we are friends, not enemy spies."

The Elf commander stared at Braelorn until he was forced to look away, unable to keep the Elf commander's gaze. "You make a good argument. If you were to present yourselves admirably in the coming battle, then there would be no question as to your intentions. I am willing to give you that chance. It would be good news indeed, if it came from Gandalf."

The companions let out a collective sigh of relief when the Elf commander finished his speech. Then, the Elf commander proceeded to talk the party through the battle plan. They would wait, in ambush, at the borders of the forest, waiting in the trees until most of the Orcs were in the forest. Then, they would attack from above, cutting the Orcs down with their arrows.

"But, the Troll is a problem. Our arrows will be ineffective against its tough skin, and if we get close enough to use our swords, it will destroy us. We will need your help with it." the Elf commander stated, looking between the members of the party.

The companions looked amongst each other, exchanging slight nods. Suladân turned to face the Elven commander and said, "Gandalf's message can wait."


	17. Night Ambush

The remainder of the day was spent preparing for the Orcs' arrival. Suladân spent some time repairing his left pauldron that had been all but destroyed by an Orc at Helm's Deep. It was a simple enough process, made simpler by the fact that Suladân had the necessary meterials on hand. Erianne sat a few feet away, sharpening her axe with a whetstone, the rasping filling the air about her. Braelorn spent his time convincing Telk and Cina to stay behind during the battle. Though Cina quickly agreed to, Telk refused outright to listen to reason.

"It won't be safe for you in the battle. You could be trampled or killed. There's nothing you could do to help, and one of us would likely be killed protecting you." Braelorn argued, but Telk would have none of it.

"No, I want to fight! You won't need to protect me, I can take care of myself!" Telk shrieked back. Cina watched in silence, frowning at Telk.

"You can barely lift a sword, let alone swing it. Maybe someday you'll be able to fight, but not now, not when you're this young and small." Braelorn retorted, worried for the child's safety.

The argument went on, neither side making ground. But then, the Elf woman that they had met upon entering Lothlorien appeared and began to console the Hobbit.

"While you may not be able to fight, there are other ways you can help. Your friends' horses, they will need seeing to. Also, you could help carry messages between the commanders and the battle. We would need arrows carried to the archers, they run out quite quickly. These are all things you could do, and your sister too, if she would wish it." she offered, with a kind smile.

All of the companions were looking at the Elf woman with awe, especially Braelorn. He had never thought of Telk helping from the sidelines, without actually being in direct danger. They all looked to Telk, who appeared to be considering the Elf woman's offer. "Alright." he said, with a broad grin, before running off to see to their horses. Cina followed soon after.

The companions and the Elf woman watched Telk go, smiles all around. "Mind if I join you?" she asked. The four of them signaled their ascent, and the Elf woman sat down, looking at no one in particular.

"Will you be joining us in the battle?" Suladân inquired first, his gaze still centered on his work repairing his armor.

"Yes, of course. I'm one of the most skilled healers, I will have much work to do." she answered, glancing briefly at Suladân, whom nodded to show he understood. "I have also been ordered to stay with the three of you throughout the battle, to watch out for..."

"Betrayal." Erianne finished for her, looking up from her axe at the Elf woman sternly.

"Yes, though I do not believe I will find it." the Elf woman answered, neglecting to return the stare. Erianne returned to her work with a shrug.

Silence reigned over the group for a few minutes, before it was broken by the Elf woman. "My name is Gwynne." she offered.

"I'm Braelorn, this is Erianne, and that is Suladân." Braelorn replied, pointing out each person as they were introduced. "And the little ones are Telk and Cina." he added as an afterthought.

The four were plunged into silence yet again, but this time it lasted for hours. Gwynne dismissed herself, and Braelorn found something to keep himself occupied.

* * *

When the sun began to make its way toward the Western horizon, the companions decided it was time to make ready for the coming battle. They set out in search of their horses, with which they had left their weapons and armor.

They wandered about the Elven camp for a few minutes, before the sound of low braying caught their attention, and they moved towards it to find their three horses wandering about a small meadow of grass overseen by Telk, who held a long stick like a shepherd's staff.

Cina sat on one edge of the meadow, taking everything out of their saddlebags, and reorganizing the contents before putting them back in. The three companions who would be fighting in the coming battle retrieved their armor, weapons, shields, and Erianne's bow and quiver from Cina, then made their way out of the meadow.

They were walking back to the area they had settled in earlier when Braelorn stopped them to ask a question.

"How did they get the saddles off of the horses?" he inquired, looking between them. The three companions thought for a short while.

"Does it matter? So long as they got it done without injuring themselves." Suladân said dismissively. The three continued on, but Braelorn still puzzled over how they could have done it.

* * *

When they got back to their own campsite, they helped each other to belt on their armor, then they subsequently began to check their weapons, making necessary maintenance for the remainder of the day.

Telk and Cina joined them an hour later, and they ate a small dinner. The two Hobbits stayed with them, the party sitting in silence, waiting...

Then suddenly, an Elf burst from the tree line and ran through the camp in the direction of the commander's table.

Moments later, Gwynne joined them. "The battle is upon us. The Orcs have been sited on the horizon. It's time to set up the ambush." she ordered.

The companions got to their feet and split into two groups. Gwynne, Suladân, Braelorn, and Erianne followed the battle-ready Elves that were filtering out of the camp and walking through the forest in the direction that the runner had appeared from. Telk and Cina ran in the opposite direction, beginning a series of small tasks that would assist the Elves.

* * *

In a matter of minutes, Gwynne had led them to a platform, built in one of the trees two dozen yards in from the edge of the forest. Gwynne and Suladân scaled the tree up to the platform with ease, Erianne had a little trouble, and a rope ladder needed to be lowered for Braelorn. Soon, the four were crouching on the platform, keeping as still as possible and watching the horizon to the South. Elves moved all about them, at least three dozen moved to similar platforms. A pair of Elves moved out onto the grassland in a wide arc, starting from far apart, then coming slowly together, far out in the grassland.

Gwynne explained what they were doing as the two Elves ran back to join their brethren in the trees. "They are laying a trap that will ensure that the Orcs will not be able to escape once the battle begins. They have poured a slow-burning oil, specially treated so that the fire will not spread. All it will take is one arrow, alight with flame, to start the trap. One of the Elves ahead will shoot it when the Orcs are within the trap. Once the fire is ablaze, then we must attack."

The companions nodded, keeping as still as they could, making as little sound as possible.

As they waited for the Orcs to appear, darkness began to descend. With what little light was left, the companions began to make out dark shapes appearing in the distance, approaching quickly. The Troll was clearly visible, towering over the smaller shapes of the Orcs.

The companions creeped slowly to the edges of their platform, waiting. Suladân held his spear with two hands, Erianne wielding her shortbow with her shield slung over her back, and Braelorn his shield and mace. Gwynne wielded only her Elven sword and wore no armor, only the long sleeveless coat of a neutral gray color, her silver pants and shirt, and her gray leather vambraces and boots.

* * *

Half an hour later, the calm of the night was interrupted by the growls and shrieks of the Orcs as they advanced. Their armor and weapons rattling as they came. Over all of the noise the Orcs made, the steps of the Troll thundered.

Soon, the Orcs were pausing at the edge of the forest, looking about and sniffing wearily. Then, an Orc who carried a banner painted with a red eye roared something out to the Orcs, and their march resumed, directly beneath the platforms that the Elves were waiting on.

Moments later, a small fire flared on one of the outer platforms and was soon joined by the twang of a bowstring. The small fire flew out onto the grasslands, and flared into a quickly spreading half-circle of flames that grew to be 4 yards high.

More bowstrings twanged all about, and the Orcs below cried out into the night as they were struck down. The four companions dropped from above on the Orcs around their tree platform, and quickly cut them down. Arrows continued to rain down from above, taking advantage of the surprise and confusion.

The four companions stayed close to their tree, knowing that spreading out and splitting up would lead to them becoming surrounded and slaughtered, as the Orcs were being now. The Troll had recovered from the initial shock that the fire had caused, but was now charging into the forest. It smashed through the branches of the trees as Elven arrows clattered uselessly off its skin.

The companions watched in horror as the Troll seized a platform that Elves were still standing on, and pulled it off of the tree, flinging the platform away. The Elves that had been standing on it leaped off, or were thrown with the platform, to be cut apart by the Orcs. Elves began to move down from the tree platforms, their arrows depleted and began fighting with their swords.

The Troll continued to blunder about unchecked, smashing apart trees and stepping on Elves and Orcs alike. "I think the time has come for your assistance." Gwynne stated, pulling her sword from the lifeless body of an Orc.

Suladân nodded his understanding, and called Erianne and Braelorn to Gwynne and himself. Keeping close together, the four of them began to cut a swath through the Orcs. At the front were Erianne and Braelorn, using their shields to block incoming attacks. Suladân stood just behind them, using the reach of his spear to attack Orcs over Braelorn and Erianne. Gwynne attacked from behind him, protecting their flanks.

They moved quickly, leaving many Orc bodies behind them. They kept their heading for the Troll, busy trying to pull another platform from a tree. Almost all of the Elves had moved down and into the melee, and it was clear that the Orcs were failing, but the Troll was still a threat. The Elves' arrows had had no effect other than angering the Troll further.

The area it rambled over was clear of Elves and Orcs, whom gave it a wide berth as they fought. Once the companions entered the open area, they broke formation, spreading out in a line and moving slowly, guardedly towards the Troll. Erianne drew her bow, and tried to aim for the Troll's eyes. She let her first arrow loose, but it missed, glancing off the troll's temple.

The Troll turned, enraged, towards this new threat and started to stomp towards the companions.

"Spread out! Surround it!" Braelorn ordered, and the companions complied, moving sideways around the troll, spreading out further until they were evenly spaced around the troll, each about ten feet away.

Erianne shot another arrow at the Troll's head and it turned towards her, but Suladân and Braelorn leaped forward, striking at it's legs, Suladân with his spear and Braelorn with his mace. The troll roared, striking out with its foot at the closer of the two, Braelorn.

Braelorn lifted his shield, but the impact still knocked him off his feet and onto his back, his shield shattered. The Troll was about to attack the downed Braelorn, but the other three companions struck out at it at the same time. The Troll reeled, confused and unsure of who to attack. The distraction gave Braelorn time to get back to his feet and seize a new shield from a dead Orc.

The fight continued in that matter for a few minutes. Whenever the Troll would attack one person, the others would attack, keeping the troll confused and inflicting small wounds. However, the companions were making no headway, the Troll showing no signs of wearing down.

* * *

Suddenly, a half dozen Orcs broke from the battle and charged at Erianne. Braelorn jumped to her defense, intercepting the Orcs and fighting with them. Erianne joined the struggle.

The Troll moved towards them, and Suladân and Gwynne attempted to distract it, but they failed. The Troll continued to press towards the struggling Erianne and Braelorn.

Suladân sprinted past the Troll until he was standing between his companions and the Troll. The Troll brought its huge fist down, but Suladân rolled closer to the Troll, avoiding the blow. He then struck straight upwards with his spear, stabbing it in the softer flesh of its stomach. The Troll roared in pain, and grabbed the spear as Suladân still clung to it.

The Troll pulled the blade free, and knocked Suladân loose. He fell to the ground, stunned, and the Troll advanced on him, keeping hold of the spear. When the Troll reached Suladân, it stabbed him in his left arm, wrenching it back and forth, rendering the arm completely useless and barely attached. Somehow, Suladân managed to pull out his sword and cut through the haft of the spear then rolled out of the way as the Troll smashed the ground where he had been with its fist.

Recovering quickly from the roll, Suladân turned and buried the blade of his sword into the Troll's arm, piercing the skin and biting deep into its flesh. The Troll roared in pain again, and seized Suladân about the middle with its other arm, pinning his sword arm. It lifted him into the air and began to squeeze...

Just as Gwynne, forgotten by the Troll, slipped under it and cut deeply into both legs in rapid succession, then rolled clear as the Troll began to stumble. It slipped clumsily on the bodies underfoot and tumbled onto its back.

Suladân broke free of the Troll's grip as it smashed into the ground. He picked up an Elvish sword, discarded by its former, now dead, owner and leaped onto the Troll's chest, pulled his sword arm back, then snapped it forward, stabbing the Elvish sword into the exposed neck of the Troll. Blood flowed freely from the wound and the Troll moaned, almost pitifully, as it died.

Suladân released the sword and fell to the ground, slipping into blackness as his body struck the ground.


	18. Back from the Dead

The blackness seemed to stretch for eternity. There was nothing but the feeling of waiting for some form of change, of life. _Am I dead?_ Suladân thought within the blackness, his thoughts seeming to echo forever. _No, I wouldn't be in this much pain if I was dead._ He added, as what felt like fire shot through his left arm. Then it came back to him, the battle on the borders of Lothlorien. The Troll...

It felt a lot like death. He should be dead, yet he wasn't. He was able to feel the pain from his wounds, able to think and remember. Then why couldn't he move?

But the blackness continued. No change, even though Suladân desperately wished for it, tried to force it. Any movement he made, however, was instantly met with resistance and pain. A feeling of hopelessness seemed to press in on Suladân, and so he slept, knowing that he couldn't stand the waiting.

And so, the blackness became a little more bearable. While Suladân slept, he relived many things. Things that he deeply regretted and wished he could take back.

Opening the gate for the Orcs at Osgiliath. _Without my intrusion, they might have held the Eastern shore. And those soldiers definitely wouldn't have died._

Abandoning Braelorn and Telk when Geld went down. _He could have died, alone and on foot like that. If the Rohirrim hadn't swept through when they did...And if I hadn't gone on ahead, Geld wouldn't have gone down in the first place._

Taking on the Troll one-on-one. _No, I refuse to regret that. Braelorn would've done the same for me. And I owe him my life for almost causing him to lose his twice._

* * *

Braelorn, Erianne, Telk, and Cina all sat around Suladân's unconscious form. They were there to give Gwynne a break from watching over Suladân, which she had done for almost three days, even though she had already done all that she could on the first day. Now, Gwynne was getting some much needed rest and food.

They had transported Suladân back to the staging area, and bedded him down on one of the tree platforms. Most of the Elves that had survived the battle dispersed, but the party and Gwynne stayed behind along with the Elves that normally maintained the staging area.

At one point, Suladân had begun to stir, to attempt to move himself, but that could only lead to further injury, so Gwynne had called Braelorn and Erianne over, and the three had held him down until he slumped back into passive stillness.

* * *

The companions watched for any sign of a change but received none. It appeared as if he would never wake up, yet he still showed signs of life. His heavily bandaged chest rose up and down slightly with his breathing. Occasionally, one of the fingers on his right hand would twitch slightly, but no other responses were forthcoming.

For perhaps the hundredth time, Braelorn looked over at the upper part of Suladân's left arm. It was bandaged now, but he had seen what was underneath before. The Troll had so thoroughly destroyed his arm, that now it was only attached by a strip of muscle and skin. No one doubted that he would never be able to move it again, and all but Gwynne doubted what good it would do him to bandage it.

* * *

The companions kept up their vigil for the next four days. During the night, they took shifts watching over Suladân. On the fourth day after the battle, Gwynne returned from her rest, taking turns during the night like everybody else. When it was her turn, she would kneel at the head of Suladân's bed, with his head propped up on her knees. And her hands on the side of his head, just looking down at him and helping him to stay at peace with her presence and light touches upon his temples.

As it began to settle in towards sunset on the seventh day of the companions' vigil, it was Braelorn's turn to watch Suladân and he settled down onto the floor next to his bed.

After an hour of silence, Suladân began to stir, clamping his eyes shut and trying to move. Braelorn was on his feet in an instant, and held Suladân down as best he could, while calling out to the others to come. Gwynne was there in a moment, and soon followed by Erianne and the Hobbits.

They held him down for a few minutes, but something was wrong. Usually, he stopped moving by now, but he didn't stop this time, and kept moving. The most movement was in his upper left arm, and Erianne applied two hands to that area, above the bandages, to prevent further injury.

"Something's wrong." she reported, watching as the area not covered by the bandage began to turn red, as if it had a rash.

Gwynne moved around the bed and examined the rash. "I have to take the bandage off, to see what's wrong...Telk, Cina, can you hold down the other half of his arm?" she inquired, and the Hobbits moved quickly to comply, leaving Braelorn to hold down the rest of Suladân.

Gwynne began to slowly unwrap Suladân's arm, starting from the top. More red skin was revealed, until she came to the wound itself. She stood back with a gasp of shock, attracting everyone else's attention to the area.

The wound was still open, the ends of Suladân's bones could be seen, and they appeared to be slowly lengthening, extending towards each other. The muscle tissue around his bones were also growing and knitting back together. And his skin began to slowly reform. In a matter of minutes, the wound had completely disappeared, and the rash began to die down.

The companions stared at the spot where the wound had been, not letting go of Suladân even though he had stopped moving.

Slowly, the companions recovered from the shock and let Suladân go, taking a step back. All eyes were on the place where his wound had been. But eventually, their eyes wandered up, looking at each other and seeing the same wonder they felt in the others' eyes.

Braelorn broke the silence with a whisper, "What was that?" he shook his head in bewilderment and looked away from the scene.

"I've definitely never seen anything like it. We'll have to ask him when he wakes up." Gwynne stated, her brow knitting in a frown of confusion as she looked at Suladân's peaceful face.

"If he wakes up." Erianne added morbidly.

Cina stepped forward nervously and put one finger lightly on the place where the wound had been, now deathly pale. She withdrew it quickly and looked around sheepishly.

"I think we'd all better get back to sleep...nothing to do about it now." Braelorn suggested, turning back to Suladân and leaning over him, looking his body up and down.

"I'll take the first watch." Gwynne offered, kneeling down at the head of Suladân's bed. The other members of the party filtered out slowly and got back to their beds, but not immediately to sleep.

* * *

When Gwynne was alone with Suladân she shakily removed the rest of the bandages from Suladân's arm. Then she began to unwrap his chest. It was now smooth and unbruised, completely recovered from the crushed and broken state it had been in when she had first wrapped it.

She settled back and looked over Suladân's bare chest and arms. Numerous scars ringed his arms, where they had likely been severed and regrown before. Even now, she could make out a scar in the same shape that his wound had been on his left arm. She began to slowly move her arms over Suladân's chest, checking for any bumps or signs of broken ribs.

She could find none, and moved her hands up to their usual place on the sides of Suladân's head. She watched his face for some sign of change, but none appeared. With a sigh, Gwynne considered the possibility that he wouldn't wake up for the first time. He was completely recovered from his wounds, and should have given some sign of waking up by know.

She glanced at Suladân's face, and fell backwards in surprise. His eyes were open, and looking up, directly into her face.

Gwynne sat back up and looked down into his eyes. "Water..." Suladân murmured, his mouth and throat drier than it had even been in his long years in the desert. Gwynne grabbed a nearby water skin and poured the contents into his waiting mouth.

He opened his mouth to thank her, but she stopped him with a finger on his lips. "Shh, you've been through much, and still need to recover your strength. I'll get some food." she said, standing up and moving away, looking back reluctantly to make sure he was still alright. He looked back at her with a curious look in his eye.

Gwynne turned away quickly and was gone for a few moments. When she returned, Suladân had managed to sit up and was anxiously awaiting her return. She knelt down next to him and helped feed him. The entire time that she hand-fed him, like a baby, they never broke eye-contact, Suladân's gaze intense.

"Thank you." he murmured when the food was gone. Gwynne nodded dismissively and the two merely sat there, looking at each other.

"How long has it been?" Suladân asked, breaking the silence.

"A week." Gwynne answered. Suladân looked down at his arm and chest.

"Who saw-" he began to question, but Gwynne cut him off.

"All of us saw. We didn't know what to do, so the others went back to sleep." she explained and Suladân looked back up and met her gaze once again. "They'll be expecting an explanation. And so do I. I've never seen anything like it before." she added, reaching a hand out tentatively and placing it on his chest, where the worst injury had occurred.

Taking a deep breath to settle himself, he began to explain his unique condition, "I'm what's known as a Nafarât. It means 'Lizard-being' in the language of the Southrons. We're extremely rare. I'm currently the only one of them alive, as far as I know. You saw what I do. After a week of being injured, I regenerate completely. There are many stories of how the Nafarâts had pillaged and destroyed in Near Harad, abusing their gift. So, from a very young age I was both feared, and revered. I've heard that it is possible for me to die from getting my head cut off, or my body being destroyed completely, but otherwise I cannot die. We're even immortal. I would usually be eventually hunted down and killed, but I escaped from Near Harad and came into these lands, where we're not so well known."

During his entire explanation, Gwynne kept her hand on Suladân's chest, a comforting presence. "You've had a troubled life." she said, sympathetic to the tortured soul next to her.

"That I have. I've killed many and caused a good deal of suffering, but I've survived." he responded, looking down at the floor.

Gwynne lifted his head back up with her other hand so that their eyes met. "We all have troubles in our past, but it was a hero that I saw stand his ground between the Troll and his friends." she soothed, smiling slightly.

Suladân returned the smile and nodded, maintaining their gaze. They were but inches apart from each other. "And you saved me from being crushed by the Troll." he replied, moving a hand to the small of her back, and they came a little closer.

"You were in trouble, and I did what I could." she answered, the hand on his chest moving up to his shoulder. Now, they were only a small space apart. They began to move even closer until...

"Hello in there! I heard voices." Braelorn announced before he came into sight. Suladân and Gwynne quickly separated and turned to face the new arrival.

Braelorn stopped in surprise to see Suladân sitting up. "So, you've recovered."

"Indeed I have." Suladân responded with a nod that Braelorn returned.

Braelorn stepped closer to them and looked between them. "So, about your amazing recovery..." he began to demand, but Suladân cut him off.

"I'll explain tomorrow, to everyone at once, but for now I want to rest." he said. Braelorn nodded and turned to leave. Gwynne joined him. Just before Gwynne went out of view, she looked back and met Suladân's gaze for a short time before leaving. Suladân lay back down, but didn't sleep for an hour.


	19. Gandalf's Message

Erianne was the first awake the next day. She got up quietly and went to check on Suladân. She came upon him sleeping peacefully and noted that his bandages had been removed, but didn't think much about it. Then, she moved away from Suladân and walked to the edge of the tree platform, looking out into the early morning air.

"Beautiful at this time of day, isn't it?" a voice inquired from behind Erianne. She jumped and turned to see that Gwynne had crept up behind her without making a sound.

Erianne stared at Gwynne indignantly, but Gwynne didn't return the stare, looking off in the distance. "I suppose so." Erianne said, turning away from Gwynne.

"We'll have to leave today. We've stalled long enough and Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel will be waiting for Gandalf's message." Gwynne stated, sitting down on the edge of the platform.

Erianne's intense gaze switched down to Gwynne. "What's all this about 'we'? No one invited you to come along." she said, her anger clear.

Gwynne glanced up at Erianne, remaining tranquil in the face of Erianne's blunt anger. "You're right. I should not assume acceptance. But, you'll all need my help to guide you to the Lord and Lady. I'm sure you do not know the way."

Erianne looked away, nodding her ascent, but there was still an angry frown fixed on her face.

Gwynne stood up to walk away. "However, I had figured that I would deserve a little trust or gratitude for saving Suladân." she commented, a slight edge creeping into her voice before she walked away.

* * *

The other companions awakened slowly, Braelorn being the last. Once he was up, they all grouped around Suladân's bed. Gwynne had indicated that he would want to speak to them once he was awake. The increase in noise and movement accomplished that end, and Suladân soon sat up slowly and blinked away the morning glare.

"I think it's time that I explained what you all saw last night." Suladân stated, looking around and getting nods from everyone. His gaze lingered on Gwynne briefly, but quickly moved on. Then, he launched into the explanation that he had given Gwynne the previous night, restating it as best he could remember.

The others nodded to show they understood, then Gwynne began to speak, "Well, now that Suladân is recovered, you should all begin to make the journey through Lorien. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel have been waiting for your message, and I don't think there should be any more delay."

"But we do not know the way, could you guide us, Gwynne." Erianne inquired, not looking at Gwynne, but keeping her face blank.

"I would be happy to, if it agreed with all of you." Gwynne responded, mirroring Erianne's blank expression.

The other companions looked between the two, but eventually they all offered their agreement with Gwynne showing them the way.

And so, it was with the addition of Gwynne that the party set out within the hour. Their horses were left at the staging area, because it would be impossible to bring them along on the route Gwynne intended. The Elves guarding the staging area offered to look after them for as long as necessary.

* * *

As they walked, Gwynne was in the lead, with Erianne behind her, then Telk, Cina, Suladân, and finally Braelorn at the rear. Suladân walked without support, because Gwynne's assessment had been correct. He was fully recovered.

They walked without resting. Whenever the Hobbits got too tired, Braelorn or Suladân would take turns carrying them. The children were so small that it made little difference to their pace.

They reached their destination of Cerin Amroth within the day, although they were slowed down somewhat by the crossing of the Anduin River.

It was almost dusk, but the outer guards of Cerin Amroth announced that the Lord and Lady were ready to meet them. Gwynne led the way along the well-worn paths on the forest floor, until they began to ascend a sparkling staircase that spiraled up around a tree trunk.

As they ascended, they could see similar staircases that led up to a system of walkways and platforms like the ones they had spent the previous night on.

Within minutes, they reached the platform at the top of their staircase. After surrendering what weapons they had with them to the guards, they stood at the bottom of a staircase leading up to another series of platforms and walkways and waited.

* * *

Soon, a pair of Elves began to make their way down the stairs. One was a male, wearing long robes of gray and silver. The other a female, her long silver dress glittered and shone with the light of dozens of small jewels. The brightest light emanated from her right hand, from a ring.

When they neared the bottom of the staircase, the male Elf spoke, "We have been told that you bear a message from Gandalf. If this is true, then it would mean that he has returned from the dead. That news would be most welcome."

Suladân couldn't help but stare at the Elf Lady next to the Elf Lord whom was speaking. She met his gaze, and immediately Suladân's mind leaped to the memory of opening the gate at Osgiliath. He broke their eye contact, the feeling of another mind pressing in on his leaving immediately.

"Who bears the message?" The Elf Lord inquired, looking between the companions, whom all turned to Suladân.

"I do, my Lord." he answered, reaching into his belt and pulling out the sealed envelope. Hesitant, he approached the Elf Lord and Lady and held out the envelope, bowing his head slightly. The Elf Lord took it and broke the seal, pulling out the letter within and began to read.

The companions waited with baited breath for the Elf Lord to finish. In the meantime, Suladân avoided eye contact with the Elf Lady, but the other companions, one-by-one, were compelled to do so.

As they each made eye contact, they had the same feeling of another mind pressing in on their own as Suladân had and several odd memories from their past were called up, unbidden.

The Elf Lord seemed to be stalling until the Elf Lady was finished with the last companion, Cina. Then he looked away from the letter, folding it and returning it to the envelope before speaking. "So indeed, Gandalf is alive. But, as always, he also gives bad news. Orcs begin to advance North. The small party you defeated was only to test our borders and to keep us distracted. Thank you for bringing us this message, and also for assisting in the defense of our borders. But I must ask, what delayed you for so long? The battle is eight days past."

Gwynne stepped forward to explain. "One of their number was injured grievously in the battle, and it took long for him to recover."

"He would not have recovered at all, if not for your help." The Elf Lady said, speaking for the first time and displaying unnatural insight.

"Yes, my Lady Galadriel." Gwynne replied, stepping back with her head bowed in respect.

"In any case, " The Elf Lord began, "we are grateful to have this message, despite the delay. You will be allowed to rest here for the night, if you wish it." he offered, meeting Suladân's reluctant gaze for the first time, but no infringing presence was felt.

Suladân let out a slight sigh of relief before answering, "Yes, of course. It would be an honor." The Elf Lord and Lady nodded in response, turned, and began to ascend the stairs. Gwynne led the way off of the platform and back down the spiraling staircase.

Once they were finished with the descent, Gwynne led the party to a tent with beds set up for visitors underneath it. The party settled down, the exhaustion from walking all through the day settling in on their weary shoulders, and soon they were all asleep.


	20. Northward Evermore

Suladân was the first to wake up the next day. He sat up in bed and looked around at his companions, all still sound asleep. Except for Gwynne, whom was nowhere in sight. In fact, Suladân couldn't even remember whether or not she had even come into the tent with them.

Getting dressed quickly, Suladân tiptoed his way out of the tent and into the fresh morning air. He breathed deeply through his nose, his morning grogginess ebbing away. Refreshed and filled with renewed vigor, Suladân set out on the paths, not knowing what he was looking for but still feeling the need to walk.

His wandering, still upon the ground because he was not sure if he was allowed on the staircases, brought to his sight many gardens that the Elves maintained on the forest floor. As he passed a few of them, he could see Elven caretakers in some of them, starting their work early. Occasionally, one of them would raise a hand in greeting, and Suladân would return the gesture with a nod.

As Suladân came upon the next garden, he had the feeling that this one was what he was looking for. It was a very small and secluded one, just a small inlet of grass surrounded by bushes. He walked down into it and saw no Elves nearby.

Just as Suladân was beginning to wonder why he had come here and debated going back to the tent, a familiar voice spoke out behind him.

"It is hard for you to sleep." It was a statement, not a question. Suladân spun around to see Lady Galadriel walking down into the garden. "That is often a sign of a troubled mind. And guilt." Galadriel began to slowly circle about Suladân.

"I know what it is you have done, many weeks ago. What haunts your guilty mind. Those men died because of your greed and folly." she said, continuing her slow circling, Suladân turning to keep her in sight. "Only one with no respect for human life would have refused. If not immediately, then when they were faced with the task directly."

Suddenly, she stopped and turned to face Suladân and asked, "Tell me: Why did you accept the offer, even though you owed Sauron and his agents nothing?"

"Sauron? I didn't know...I never saw who was talking. And the reason I did it...I wanted to leave Near Harad. I had too much blood in my past there to continue peacefully." Suladân explained.

Try as he might, he could not resist making eye contact with Galadriel. And as soon as he did, his mind jumped to the memories of leaving the small caravan that had taken him in, stealing Dalamyr, joining the band of marauders, not much older than his tender age of 19, and the killing and pillaging that ensued.

"Get out of my head!" Suladân roared, dropping to his knees and clasping his head in his hands. Yet his mind continued to relive his experiences.

_After a decade, he grew tired, bored, of the thieving lifestyle. He tried to leave, but they wouldn't let him. So he slaughtered all of them and went on, wandering the desert, always met with fear and mistrust. Until he decided to enter Old Near Harad..._

* * *

Suladân sat, bent over and with his forehead pressed to the ground, his hands gripping his temples, trying to make the flow of memories of pain and death stop. He chanced a brief glance up and saw that he was alone in the garden.

Breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself, Suladân sat up and looked around. No one was there, and the forest had become silent around him. The only sound was his heavy breathing.

Once he had calmed himself down, Suladân got to his feet and walked out of the garden. He retraced his steps to the tent where his companions slept. He sat down on the edge of the bed he had occupied, rubbing his temples and staring intently at the ground. His friends slowly began to awaken around him.

Suladân deflected any questions directed his way with silence and indifference. His friends began to worry, but as soon as they were all awake, Gwynne appeared.

"I bear a message from the Lord and Lady of Lorien." she stated. Braelorn waved her in, accompanied by a deep yawn, he was the last to wake up yet again.

"In Gandalf's message, he mentioned that a group of Warg Riders, led by the Warg Master, Skrull, would be forging North to Gladden Fields. There are many small villages in the area, and they would have no defense against them. The Lord and Lady beseech you to ride out to meet them and help the villages. You will not be forced to go, but Elven soldiers would not be able to get there on time, traveling on foot." she explained.

The companions sat in quiet consideration. Every once in a while, one of them would glance at Suladân. He would usually make this kind of decision, but he didn't appear to be paying attention to the conversation.

After a minute of silence, Braelorn spoke up, "Well, I would not want to abandon the villages when we are the only ones who can help them. I say we go." Telk was quick to agree, with Erianne and Cina a little slower to agree.

Everyone looked at Suladân, but again he was too absorbed in his own thoughts to pass comment.

"Well, then it's decided. You'll be going North to help the villages." Gwynne stated with a small smile. "I will gather the supplies you'll need to refresh your food stores, and send out a message to have your horses brought around to the Northern edge of Lorien. You'll be able to set out tomorrow." And then, Gwynne left.

The companions sat in silence once she had gone, all eyes on Suladân. It took a few minutes for him to come back to his surroundings. He looked around at all the faces directed towards him and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "What's happened?" he inquired.

Braelorn was quick to explain. "Well, we've just been given a mission to go North to stop a band of Warg Riders that are set to pillage a few villages in Gladden Fields. You missed out on voting, but the rest of us decided to go."

Suladân took a moment before answering, "Well, I'll be going as well. Nothing else to do. What of Gwynne?"

"She was the one who gave us the offer. And now she's gone to gather the supplies we'll need and to give the order to bring our horses around to the Northern edge of the forest." Erianne explained, settling back onto her bed when she was finished, assuming a bored disposition.

"I'm assuming we'll just have to wait here until tomorrow, when we're expecting to head out." Erianne stated, lying down and looking up at the canopy of the tent.

The rest of the party settled in to wait also, Suladân pulling out Gandalf's map to look for Gladden Fields. It looked like it would be a week's ride to the North. And if the Wargs had a head start on them, they might be too late.

* * *

A few hours later, Gwynne returned, bearing a couple of packs containing what appeared to be bread wrapped in leaves. "Lembas bread." she explained, "Just one corner of it is enough to sustain a man for a week." The companions took a small nibble of it and found it satisfactory.

Shortly after Gwynne handed the packs over, another Elf arrived. "I've also managed to locate some weapons to replace those lost in the battle." she explained. The Elf handed his burdens over to Gwynne, before disappearing.

She handed an Elven spear and sword to Suladân. "We don't make many of those anymore, it was fortunate that we have some in reserve." Gwynne commented, before handing a replacement sword and another rare find, a shield, to Braelorn. Erianne was given enough arrows to refill her quiver.

"I hope that will be satisfactory. You should be able to leave tomorrow morning, I can guide you out to your horses and see you off." she stated, then left them. Suladân watched her go for a moment, before getting to his feet and beginning to follow her.

"Where are you going, Sue?" Telk inquired, turning away from Braelorn practicing with his new weapons briefly.

"I'm stretching my legs." he answered over his shoulder, heading in the direction he had seen Gwynne disappear.

He followed her into the gardens he had wandered through earlier, only occasionally catching glimpses of her that quickly disappeared.

Suladân hadn't seen any sign of her for a few minutes, but was sure that she had headed this way, when suddenly he was tugged by the arm into a small, secluded garden.

He turned to face the person who still had a hold on his arm, and was only mildly surprised to see it was Gwynne. "Why are you following me?" she inquired in a way that said that she already knew why.

"I wanted to talk with you." Suladân answered. Gwynne looked up at him and nodded, releasing his arm but not moving away.

Suladân took a steadying breath before saying, "I want you to come with us."

"Why?" she inquired, again in the way that indicated that she already knew.

"I have grown...accustomed to your company, and would miss it." he answered with a small smile that she returned.

"I would go with you, but I'm not sure if it would be agreeable with your companions." she replied, breaking eye contact and looking down to his chest.

"Erianne?" he inquired, getting a nod from Gwynne in return. "Well, she and Braelorn didn't think much of asking if she could join with us on our journey here." he said, grasping her chin and pulling it up so he could look her in the eyes. "I don't think much of asking either." he added.

They looked at each other for a brief time, then Gwynne pulled away. "I would feel better if you did." Suladân nodded, and Gwynne began to leave the garden. Suladân let her go, walking in the opposite direction and heading back to his companions.

* * *

When he returned, Braelorn asked with a broad smile on his face, "So, how went your walk?"

Suladân shook his head, smiling in return and took a seat on his bed. "Well, I think Gwynne should come with us." he stated. Everyone turned to look at him oddly, but didn't say anything. "I thought I'd ask." he added with a shrug.

Erianne frowned at Suladân, but he didn't meet her stare. "Well, sure, I guess. The more the merrier." Braelorn stated, giving Erianne an odd look. Telk and Cina agreed. And when everyone turned to Erianne, she gave a small nod. "Well, then it's settled. One more added to the group." Braelorn said, then fell back onto his bed and resumed waiting for the next day, and their departure, to come.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Occasionally, an Elf or two would walk past them, but there was never any sign of Gwynne. An air of boredom settled around the companions, whom milled about, never leaving the shelter of their tent. They found small tasks to keep them occupied until night, when they gladly went to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, everyone was up bright and early, even Braelorn. They strapped on their packs and belted on their weapons, anxiously awaiting Gwynne's return and their eventual departure. Minutes later, Gwynne arrived. A similar pack on her back and her sword at her side. She looked immediately to Suladân, whom nodded slightly. Gwynne smiled in return before indicating that they should follow her.

The party went directly out of Cerin Amroth and took a Northward bearing into the forest. No one was there to see them off, but any Elves they passed raised a hand in farewell or inclined their head respectfully.

True to her word, their horses awaited them at a small guard camp on the Northern edge of Lorien. There were a pair of Elven guards waiting, with the companions' horses tethered to a tree nearby. They nodded their thanks to the guards, whom returned the gesture and returned to their duties. The party mounted their horses and set off and leaving the ancient forest behind, plains ahead of them and a long mountain range to the Northwest.


	21. Journey to Gladden Fields

Over the course of the ten day journey to Gladden Fields, Gwynne gradually assimilated into the party. It was a little harder for everyone to adjust to her presence because the skills she brought with her were not immediately useful, like Erianne's cooking.

However, on the second day when Telk fell from atop Eärnur and broke his arm, an injury that would have slowed the party down significantly. Gwynne stepped in and had the arm bound in a splint and ready for travel in a matter of minutes. After that incident, it was like she had been with them for weeks.

There was also no sign of the Wargs they had been sent out to hunt down. The best they could do was to travel to Gladden Fields, their known objective.

As they traveled, Gwynne rode behind Suladân and Cina rode in front of Erianne. When they rode, Gwynne would slip her arms about Suladân's waist, and rest her head against his back. Suladân tried not to pay too much attention to it.

* * *

The journey went by quick and unhampered, and after eight days they could see the Anduin River coming down from the Misty Mountains in the West to meet the Great Anduin River to the East. However, they could not see much of the Anduin River or where it intersected with the Great Anduin River because it was blocked from sight by a series of forested foothills that Suladân identified as Gladden Fields.

As they came closer and closer to their destination, the companions began to worry about whether they were too early, or too late.

* * *

Midway through the tenth day, the ground began to rise and the party could tell they had reached Gladden Fields.

Suladân constantly looked over his shoulder to see if the Wargs would appear on the Southern horizon. He watched as long as he could until the foothills and forest obscured his vision, but they never appeared.

"Wasn't there supposed to be a village here?" Braelorn inquired of the group in general after they had wandered about for a fruitless hour.

"That's what Gandalf's message said, but I've never been this far North." Gwynne responded. The party continued in silence, wandering over the foothills and weaving amongst the trees.

* * *

After spending the rest of the day without finding any sign of human habitation in their searching, the party settled down for the night. They built a large fire, hoping that it would attract the attention of anyone in the area.

Soon, everyone was lying around the fire, a hot meal in their stomachs and ready for a full night's sleep. However, Braelorn remained awake. He had volunteered to take the first watch for the night. Normally, they didn't set watches, but with the potential presence of Wargs in the area, everyone was a little more cautious.

Braelorn's third of the watch went by without incident. Not even a shadow moved threateningly beyond the light of the campfire. Braelorn almost wished for something to happen to break the monotony and boredom.

* * *

Just as he was waking Suladân up for his turn at the watch, Dalamyr's head rose from his sleep and stared into the distance, his ears twitching. Braelorn roused Suladân and pointed at Dalamyr.

Suladân sat up, drawing his sword and looking off in that direction, Braelorn did the same. "Who goes there?" the latter called out into the night.

"A Ranger of the North." a voice replied out of the darkness behind them. Braelorn and Suladân turned to face the source of the voice, sword ready to strike, but with a twang, their weapons were shot out of their hands by a pair of arrows.

Suladân and Braelorn were now turned fully to see the source of the noise. They couldn't see his face, because it was covered by a black scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face and the hood of a forest green cloak. Underneath the cloak, he wore a short-sleeved gray tunic, leather jerkin, black pants, and leather boots. He held a longbow, with two arrows on the string, their heads spaced far enough apart so the Ranger could kill them both in one shot. A quiver was belted onto his back, over the cloak.

"Now that we can have a civil conversation, why don't you gentlemen tell me what you're doing here?" the Ranger inquired mockingly.

Braelorn sneered and remarked, "We could have had a civil conversation, if you would have walked straight up to us." The Ranger laughed aloud at this, only making Braelorn angrier.

Suladân put out an arm across Braelorn's chest, signaling him to calm down before he stated, "We're here tracking a party of Warg Riders. We heard they might be attacking a village in this area and we were attempting to find it to provide what help we can, but we do not know the way." Something flickered in the Ranger's eyes and he suddenly became serious.

"I know where the village is." he stated, lowering his bow slightly. "I could guide you to it."

"And what of the Wargs?" Suladân inquired eagerly.

The Ranger hesitated before replying, "No, I have not. But if what you say is true, then that will soon change."

The noise the three had been making had woken up both Erianne and Gwynne by now. Gwynne had woken up as soon as the weapons had been shot out of their hands, ready to attack if need be, but now she sat up slowly, her hand now away from the hilt of her sword.

Erianne was a different story. She was slowly roused by the noise and conversation. And when she was, she went immediately on the alert. She rolled out of bed, her shield and axe in her hands. She advanced toward the Ranger, who immediately shot at her, but it was quickly blocked by her shield. The Ranger had another arrow on the string and Erianne was almost to the Ranger when Gwynne stopped Erianne.

Gwynne came up behind Erianne and wrapped an arm around her torso, and pulled the arm holding her axe to the side. "Calm, he is not an enemy." Gwynne hissed in her ear. Erianne shook her off, but didn't make a move towards the Ranger.

An awkward silence filled the camp as Erianne and the Ranger stared at each other resentfully until Erianne turned and walked back to where she had been sleeping. The Ranger lowered his bow in response and the other companions let out a collective sigh of relief.

Suladân broke the silence by saying, "Alright. Now, I don't think we'll be able to go the village tonight. We can set out tomorrow. There hasn't been any sign of the Warg Riders yet and we know they'll be coming here, so it should be assumed that they haven't arrived yet. We can afford to wait."

"Yes...of course..." the Ranger muttered. "I'll return in the morning." he added before disappearing into the night. The companions watched in stunned silence at his sudden exit.

Slowly, however, they recovered and settled back in to sleep for the rest of the night. Erianne demanded an explanation of what she had missed, so she stayed up with Suladân during his watch and he filled her in.

Once all of her relevant questions were answered, Erianne went to sleep and Suladân continued his watch until he turned it over to Gwynne, the last to have a turn at watch that night.


	22. Defending The Vale

Bright and early the next morning, the companions were up and breaking camp. All eyes were constantly scanning the forest about them, waiting for the reappearance of the Ranger. He did not disappoint.

Within minutes, he appeared. No one had seen him approach, he just seemed to step out of the forest, his bow held at his side.

Braelorn had been looking right at the spot where the Ranger had appeared, and jumped from shock and yelled, drawing everyone's attention to the Ranger. They turned, weapons ready to strike, but lowered them as they saw what caused the disturbance.

The Ranger stepped further into the camp once everyone knew he was there. Unlike the previous night, his head and face were uncovered and everyone could see the smirk on his youthful face. "Sorry about startling you." he directed at Braelorn, whom muttered something incoherent and went back to the task of saddling his horse.

The Ranger chuckled audibly before inquiring of the party in general, "So, are you ready to set out? I'm ready to guide."

"Another few moments of preparation and we will." Suladân replied, finishing with Dalamyr's saddle before helping everyone else with their final preparations.

Within minutes, the party's horses were saddled, the supplies were loaded, and everyone was ready to seek out the village they had spent the last 10 days searching for. "Lead on." Suladân prompted. With a nod, the Ranger turned towards the forest and signaled for the party to follow him. They did so on foot, leading their horses.

* * *

They walked in silence, all eyes on the young Ranger as he led the way. He never seemed to stop to check that he was heading in the right direction. He just seemed to know.

Their path was studded with trees and rolling hills as well as the occasional flat field of knee-high grass that the area took its name from. Whenever they would enter one of these open stretches, they could see that the sun was slowly climbing towards its peak.

As their walk progressed, the Ranger began to walk faster, holding his bow tightly with two hands. His anxious air didn't pass unnoticed.

"What is wrong?" Gwynne inquired, the closest to the Ranger.

"Nothing. Nothing." the Ranger responded dismissively, and the walk went on uninterrupted.

* * *

After another few minutes, indistinct sounds began to become audible. Soon, it was loud enough to not be ignored.

"What's that?" Cina murmured, cowering slightly in fear.

"It's still too far away to tell." Braelorn stated gruffly. The party's steps began to get faster, until Gwynne came to a sudden stop, a look of horror on her face.

"Wargs." she whispered, looking up at her companions before repeating, in a louder voice, "Wargs!" she cried.

It took a moment for the statement to register, then they took off at a run. Gwynne led, with the Ranger falling back until he was following at the back of the pack.

The sounds got louder and the other non-Elven members of the party could tell it was the howls and growls of Wargs.

* * *

They raced onward, until suddenly their path ended on the top of a ridge. Down below was one of the largest fields they had seen. In the middle of the field was a small village. And around the village circled a pack of Warg Riders. It was difficult to tell how many. They were moving so fast.

The village had managed to survive so far because of the wall surrounding it. Also, there were several people throwing rocks down at the Warg Riders, but were ultimately ineffective.

The party stared at the siege, looks of mixed surprise and horror on their faces. They stood in silence until it was broken by Suladân saying, "We need to get down there." His companions nodded, but they said nothing as they began to lead their horses along the edge of the ridge until it met the field below.

As soon as the ground was level, they mounted their horses. Suladân, Braelorn, and Erianne rode their respective horses, with Gwynne joining Suladân. The Hobbits and the Ranger moved back up along the ridge, where he would best be able to use his bow, and where the Hobbits would be removed from danger.

There was no time to put on their armor, so the riders set out protected only by their shields. They formed a wedge formation, with Suladân and Gwynne in the middle and Braelorn and Erianne to either side. They set off at a gallop, Suladân with his spear, Gwynne with her sword, Braelorn with his mace, and Erianne with her shortbow, her axe ready at her side.

* * *

The companions came into sight of the Warg Riders just as the Ranger began to fire. His arrows struck with deadly accuracy, felling both rider and Warg in turn. The companions reached the Warg Riders before they could muster an adequate defense and were soon among them, cutting away at anything that came in reach.

The rocks thrown from the walls aided somewhat, and the companions, with the aid of the Ranger, were able to kill many Warg Riders before they even began to fight back.

They kept close together, knowing that without each others' help, they would be cut apart. The four fighters attacked in different directions, making sure to keep every weak point covered.

Despite their efforts, an Orc managed to get under Suladân's spear, and cut into the straps of Dalamyr's saddle. Suladân and Gwynne fell sideways to the ground. They both recovered quickly, jumping back to their feet and readying their weapons to repel the Warg Riders that closed in.

Suladân struck first, using the long reach of his spear to slay a Warg, stabbing it in the neck and throwing the Orc riding it from his saddle, whom he quickly finished off. A few feet away, Gwynne dodged the lunging bite of a Warg, spinning along the side of it and cutting away its saddle, before crouching and burying her sword all the way to the hilt in the side of the Warg. The Warg's rider soon followed.

Just as Suladân was finishing off a different Warg, another one crept up behind him, about to pounce. Suddenly, Dalamyr's massive rear hooves struck out at the side of the Warg, throwing it off its legs where it lay still, dead.

Neither Warg nor Orc rider could stand against Suladân, Gwynne, Dalamyr, and Erianne and Braelorn, still mounted. Many died and the companions managed to avoid serious injury.

* * *

Then, the battle was over. It ended as quickly as it began, with the remaining half dozen Warg Riders fleeing to the North. The Ranger managed to kill one of them, before he ran out of arrows.

The four companions watched the Warg Riders go, knowing that pursuit was pointless. Suladân retrieved Dalamyr's saddle from the ground, throwing it over the massive horse's back, though riding would be impossible until repairs could be made.

The four fighters were soon joined by Telk, Cina, and the Ranger, running down from the ridge. The companions had a moment of relief that everyone had survived relatively unscathed, when the Ranger to speak.

"Thanks for the help protecting the village." he said with a smirk. "I suppose you'll be welcome to rest inside, I know I would want to." he added, starting off towards the village's gates. The companions soon followed, annoyed at the Ranger's airy and ungrateful manner.

Then the Ranger called over his shoulder, "We call it The Vale."


	23. A Lukewarm Welcome

The wooden gates of the Vale gradually began to open as the six companions, led by the Ranger, neared it. The village inside appeared well-built and well-maintained. The houses were made entirely of wood, and only about one story tall, with every house having a sizable yard for gardens and other purposes. The village was organized around a central village square, with the houses forming steadily wider rings until they came right up to the walls. The streets were little more than dirt.

The Vale had a very sheltered, primitive, yet pure air about it, separated from the rest of civilization as it was. Its people were completely self-reliant. They grew their own food, hunted from the forests nearby, and built with the materials on hand.

However, this secluded and insular existence led to a suspicion bordering on paranoia. This was made very clear as the people of the Vale gathered on the sides of the streets, watching the new arrivals suspiciously. Soon, the villagers were joined by a group of what appeared to be militiamen, dressed in leather armor and carrying only the most rudimentary weapons, that came running down from the walls, where they had likely been occupied combating the Warg Riders. They joined in on the villagers' suspicious glares.

The hostile environment puzzled the companions. They had just saved the village, and were expecting something a little...warmer. None of the companions, however, were more dumbstruck by the welcome than Braelorn. In Minas Tirith, they would've been greeted by the call of silver trumpets and the cheers of the grateful citizens.

* * *

The Ranger led on, his stride purposeful as he continued straight down the middle of the main street, seemingly unperturbed by the villagers around him. After a moment, the companions followed, hurrying slightly to catch up. Behind them, loud creaking signaled that the gate was being closed.

As the unwelcome guests passed, the villagers and militia dispersed, going back about their daily business, but already wary gossip was beginning to crop up amongst them.

"Never a more motley bunch of travelers I've ever seen." One woman would say.

"Indeed. An Elf, two men, a woman, and such small children. Can you believe that children would be traveling with the likes of them?" another would continue.

"And what about the one with the huge black horse, could you believe the size of it!" A young man would then state in awe.

"And what of the man himself? He had a strange look about him. He's definitely not from anywhere near here, that's for certain." An old man would add.

* * *

The companions continued on, oblivious, following the lead of the Ranger ahead of them. His path seemed to be for the village square, but for what purpose, they could only guess.

As they got closer to the square, the nature of the buildings about them began to change. Closer to the halls, there had been small family homes, but they were now being replaced with larger buildings with different purposes. There was an inn, a stables, several shops, and a blacksmith. Also, just on the edge of the village square stood a long building, with large front doors. Probably some form of village hall.

The companions were soon likely to find out what the building was, as the Ranger led them straight towards it. He signaled to a hitching post in front of the building, before climbing the wide steps and making his way through the front doors. The companions quickly secured their horses to the hitching post, then followed after.

Just inside of the doors was a large room. There were benches arranged in rows that faced inwards towards a table, set up on a raised dais that made it clear that whoever sat there was someone of importance. Filling up the center chair with a his portly bulk, sat a man slightly better dressed than the normal villagers. The other chairs around him were empty. The portly man was bent forward, listening as the Ranger reported something to him in low tones.

The companions stood by the doors awkwardly, wondering what to do with themselves. After a few more moments, the Ranger backed away from the portly man, standing to the side and fixing an indifferent expression on his face. The portly man called out to the companions, "Have a seat! Have a seat! Can't have a bunch of tired heroes like you standing about." he signaled to the front bench with a wide sweeping motion of his large hand.

Once the companions were over the sudden warmth of the portly man's greeting and had finished seating themselves, the portly man continued, "There, that's better. Now, I have it on good authority that you are responsible for driving off those pesky Warg Riders. My village and myself thank you." he said, inclining his head respectfully.

Suladân inclined his head in return and was about to answer, when the portly man's voice boomed out again, "Ah, but where are my manners? My name is Holt, and I am the leader of the Vale, this village. Also, I believe you haven't been properly introduced to my young Ranger friend here. His name is Arton, and a better tracker or bowman you'll never find." The Ranger, now known as Arton, bowed his head slightly, before returning to passive indifference.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, " Holt continued, before the companions could speak up, "we can get to business. I know that the villagers might have been a little less than welcoming, bless their hearts, but we all are truly thankful. I think I speak for the entire village when I say that it would be an honor to provide whatever you may ask for in return. However, I think a place to recover for the night will be a good starting place. Arton will show you where." Holt said dismissively, getting up from his chair when he was finished and leaving through a back door before any protests could be made.

Arton approached the companions, and signaled that they should follow him. They complied, some with looks of shock at Holt's abrupt departure.

As they left the village hall, they could see villagers milling about the village square. Some turned to look at them briefly, but soon turned away and continued.

Arton waited for the companions to retrieve their horses before he led them off down a side street to a stables, where they left their horses in the able hands of the caretakers there, before Arton led them on down another street to an inn. He explained the situation briefly to the innkeeper, before he waved them off towards the stairs.

Within minutes, the companions were settled into rooms for the night. When they were all settled, Arton left them to their own devices, leaving without a word spoken.

* * *

The companions passed the rest of the day away in a subdued manner. They went about taking advantage of the hospitality extended to them. They all took a welcome bath and ate a hot meal that none of them had to cook.

Soon, night had settled in, and they all retired to their respective rooms. Telk and Cina shared one, Braelorn and Suladân another, and Gwynne and Erianne sharing the last.


End file.
